


Darker Than Flame

by Bingothefarmersdog



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Consensual Slut Shaming, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Domdrop, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Feeding, Kink Negotiation, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Painplay, Molly’s alive, Night Terrors, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Rough Kissing, Slow Burn, Subdrop, Subspace, Tail Sex, Trust Kink, Verbal Sex, Voyeurism, bratty sub, oral stimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-08-06 11:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 37
Words: 111,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bingothefarmersdog/pseuds/Bingothefarmersdog
Summary: When Molly wants something, he doesn’t know how to be patient.When Caleb wants something, patient is all he knowsOr in other words: like salt and sugar, there might be something to it.





	1. What Molly Wants

**Author's Note:**

> I plan for this fic to have several chapters, but because of busy shit going on in my life right now, I’ve decided to not make any promises. Updates will probably happen slowly, and I may not ever get to the end, but I thought I’d post it anyway.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Won't you slow down I just need a moment of your time. It's electric baby. I could be the one or I could be just crazy. (I know you've been hurt before). I can tell it in the way you're wanting more. I know the game you're playing, I wanna break the rules, stop your questioning._
> 
> _Call me._
> 
> [Call Me (bonus track)](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=1SPzPcZbYEg), by Kimbra. 
> 
> (There is no way you can convince me that Kimbra isn’t Molly Mood™ 100% of the time)

Molly _wants_ , and he makes it very obvious.

The tiefling was a being cast in hues of rainbow, in a kaleidoscope of color, in an orgy of ostentation. If Mollymauk were ever to be subtle, the world would probably fold in upon itself and cease to exist. The oxymoron would be too great for reality to contain. He quite simply, never did anything without an overdose of flare, and theatricality.

So when the Tiefling decided he wanted Caleb, he pursued the wizard in his usual showy-to-the-point-of-melodrama style. In other words, he flirted. Outrageously.

He kissed the wizard anywhere he could reach, let his hand linger on Caleb’s arm, allowed his tail to swat the human’s ass. He used extravagant pet names, like Darling, and Sweetheart, and Dearest, and Handsome, and Sexy, and even Sugar Daddy. He grinned at Caleb so blindingly, the expression was in danger of becoming glued to his face. He even made dick jokes, and not so subtle references to having sex.

It was terribly obvious, and everyone knew exactly what was going on. Caleb lamented to the group that he didn’t have enough money for paper, Molly bought a crate load of parchment that he presented to the wizard over dinner, and Nott stabbed him with her eyeballs. Mollymauk picked a stray leaf out of the dirty wizard’s hair, kissed his cheek, and Beau loudly gagged. Jester cooed every time Caleb absentmindedly answered to one of the pet names Molly used for him, which made the wizard blush furiously and stammer in his effort to explain himself. The Mighty Nein decided to visit a bathhouse, which was a fairly common occurrence, but Mollymauk was practically draped in Caleb’s lap by the end of the bath, trying to convince the human to let his hair be washed, and the long suffering Fjord actually snapped and told the tiefling to get his dick under control. The rainbow tiefling smiled, and sighed, and spent every day becoming that little bit more smitten, and Yasha wordlessly patted his back. Molly spoke gently, and moved slowly, and let his carefully hidden sincerity show, and Caleb took no notice.

Because apparently everyone knew what was going on, except for the wizard himself.

So really, when they made it back into the city after a long day of monster hunting, and Nott eagerly suggested that they go drinking, Mollymauk could not be more happy to agree. The tiefling experiencing an episode of pessimism was practically a miracle, but apparently miracles were possible, because at the moment he was fighting to stop himself from hissing angrily at his friends.

Caleb had completely ashed the beast they’d taken down, which had been Hot As Fuck and then Deeply Concerning in quick succession, as Mollymauk had first witnessed the display of Caleb’s raw power and then the ache of his mental scars. The wizard had disassociated, his face loosing the tension of anxiety and blended depression, that was so characteristic of him. He’d vanished somewhere else, and it had been Fjord that picked him up, Beau that dosed him with a shot of Nott’s mystery booze, and Frumpkin that cuddled around his neck the entire journey back.

Being sexually frustrated didn’t agree with Mollymauk, and he wasn’t above a night of self medication with alcohol.

They’d ended up drinking their body weight in booze, in the common room of a tavern they’d never visited before, in the most greasy shadowy corner where they could lean against the walls and make noise without disturbing anybody else. Molly couldn’t remember the name of the establishment, not that it really mattered at this point. They were all good and sauced, and that was all the tavern and it’s shitty alcohol had been for anyway. Even Caleb was morbidly drunk, stoically reaching for one mug after another, and chugging them down in grimly utilitarian silence.

He was drowning his demons, they all knew that, and no one felt the need to comment on it.

Molly certainly couldn’t complain. Seeing Caleb begin to loose his walls and inhibitions, slowly resorting to the shoulders of his friends and then the flat surface of the table itself as props to keep him upright, voice slurring more and more heavily as the clipped edges of his carefully pronounced common gave way before his inebriation, were all extremely amusing to Molly in his own drunken haze. By now Caleb was face down in the table, mumbling little snatches of musical rhymes into the wood, voice heavily muffled by the hair around his face, and reaching blindly to drink from his mug.

Had he been more sober, Molly might have felt more concern. Caleb was a silly drunk, turning goofy and childish. But with time the Nein had begun to notice that the more upset and traumatized Caleb started before he drank, the more loopy and carefree Caleb ended up after he drank. It was like a strange experiment of cause and effect. Being intoxicated revealed the broken shards of Caleb’s brain, and the more upset he was, the deeper he pushed into the release of getting black out drunk.

But Molly _was_ drunk, and he wasn’t concerned. There was nothing to worry him about either Caleb’s extremely drunken state, or his own alcohol haze. He was slurring badly, and had triple vision of everything, but that didn’t mean he was stupid drunk yet, just comfortably buzzed. Caleb was smiling again, and that was good enough for Mollymauk.

“HEY DICK HEAD!!!” The extremely loud, not to say abrasive voice of Beau, bawled in his ear, pulling him out of a bit of a trance starring at Caleb’s disheveled head on the table top. “Get your head out of your ass Tealeaf, I’m talking to you.”

“I’m very comfortable with ass, thank you very much,” Molly deflected cheerfully. His syllables ran together a little, but it wasn’t too bad, he had things under control.

“Ew, dude, gross. Fucking stop.” Beau growled, bitching about masculine coded sex as she usually did. “All I wanted was more booze.”

“Then I don’t see how I can help ya, darlin’.”

“You could move your fat butt, and get me some more. That might work.” Beau said with blistering sarcasm, that came off as uncomfortably personal...again just as usual...

“But I’m sooooo comfortable right here,” Molly shot back with a grin.

Next thing he knew, Beau had kicked out the leg of his chair, and he was sprawled on the floor. The sudden change made his stomach flop, and his head throbbed uncomfortably where it had hit the floor. And usually Molly prided himself on being especially tolerant of Beau’s abrasive behavior, Fjord handled her best, but Molly knew how to put up with people. It was one of the skills that came with Not Giving a Fuck.

But at this particular moment, he really wanted to cast Vicious Mockery and put as much Vicious into the Mockery as he could manage.

“Come on man. Booze. Now.” Beau said shortly, oblivious of the way Molly’s tail had begun to whip vengefully. Jester noticed though, and leaned forward to prop her chin on her hands, as if she were preparing for a show.

“ _Ja_!” Caleb said, suddenly sitting up and leaning against the wall, as he sang to the ceiling with his eyes closed. “Looserz loose, without Booooze...without booze...the Boozers booooze...”

He was definitely shit faced.

And Jester never got her show, because Molly, though he hated to admit it, couldn’t say No to Caleb. He was getting despicably soft for the man. So he merely flicked his tail, as if shedding water from the arrow tipped point, and staggered up from the floor. An endeavor that informed him he was much, much drunker than he thought, and also that circus training could come in very handy for keeping your balance through heavy intoxication.

The bartender gave him a deeply skeptical look, when he staggered up to the bar, and demanded in slurring common that he be provided with another round. Well that was bothersome. In the end it took three different haggling strategies, including begging, before Molly caved and slid and extra “tip” across the bar as a Charm laced his voice. The barkeep’s brow cleared, and he began measuring out another round of ale in bulky mugs, that he piled on a tray.

Getting that tray back to the table, without spilling it all, was a miniature miracle. But, though Molly had never outright performed in the circus, that didn’t mean he wasn’t fucking qualified, dammit. He managed the impossible, and delicately slid the tray onto the table.

And then Molly’s inner Shameless Attention Whore took over.

He wanted to sit next to Caleb. The wizard, unfortunately, was wedged into the furthest back corner of the booth they’d appropriated. There was no way to reach him, without asking two or three people to leave their seats, so he could slide in next to Caleb, or magically turn back time so he could reach the coveted spot before he’d been forced to choose one of the only chairs on the opposite end of the table. It was a frustrating situation.

So Molly ducked down, and crawled under the table.

It was a jungle of legs beneath the table. Beau’s bare feet kicked out in his direction, which he dodged, there were Fjord’s boots, and the stubs of Nott’s tiny child sized feet. He paused to affectionately brush his hand against Yasha’s knee, then pinched Jester’s ankles, and was rewarded with a yelp and a giggle. And of course, there was the tattered hem of Caleb’s weather worn coat, spattered with mud around the edges and carefully patched, but still stubbornly covering the wizard’s back.

Molly grinned, and shuffled forward to reach the other end of the table. And then he did something that he really couldn’t quite contain. Before he resurfaced, he pressed his hands against Caleb’s knees, and forced the wizard to spread his legs apart, as Molly slid his hands up the human’s inner thighs.

It was only a joke for about two seconds. Before Mollymauk’s libido roared to life, as his playful imitation of the seduction before a blow job, suddenly became very like the real thing. But it was Caleb’s reaction that really made him itch. The human choked on a gasp, and lurched forward, his head audibly thunking against the table, as he swayed forward in response. Which made Molly bite his lip, as he felt something stir, down where the sun didn’t shine.

Molly could only hope that his arousal flush wasn’t too noticeable, as he sheepishly slithered out from under the table, and forced himself into the tiny bit of space between Caleb and Fjord. The half orc gave a disgruntled huff, forced to scoot sideways, which pressed him uncomfortably close to Jester. And then of course Jester had to shimmy over to make room for Fjord’s bulk, which left Yasha with half her body hanging off the bench. Yasha only glanced at Molly with gentle understanding, and wordlessly moved to take his empty chair. She was a charm. For a moment things were awkward, and then slowly the conversation resumed, as one by one the Nein reached for their cups.

And then, under the cover of the conversation, Molly worked up the courage to look at Caleb.

One glance at the human was enough to make Molly’s blood rush southward, and he wanted nothing more than to clench a hand between his thighs and grind into his palm, making a belated mental note to beat out a quickie at the soonest opportunity. Caleb looked gorgeous. His skin was the pale tone that showed blood well, and the fairness betrayed him. He was clearly flushed, a pink tone, crawling down his neck, where it was exposed by his coat collar. Both his hands were clenched tight in his oversized coat, and his head was tipped forward against the wooden table, which allowed Molly to admire the rust color of his unruly hair.

With one shaky hand Caleb blindly reached for his mug, groping across the table. He awkwardly caught the edge, and tugged it, tipping the cup dangerously. For a moment everything happened at once, as Beau swore, Fjord jumped to try and divert catastrophe, Caleb’s awkward hold slipped, and then Jester cackled delightedly. A splash of ale painted across the table, forming little rivulets of liquid that snaked across the top of the wood.

“Aw, man, really?!” Beau fumed, tilting back in her seat as booze dripped off the table.

The only answer she got was a wet slurp, as Caleb still face down on the table, began to clumsily drink what little bits of ale ran his way.

“Ah, ah, no ya don’t.” Molly scolded hurriedly, gripping Caleb’s shoulders and hauling him away from the table. “You’ve had enough, and you’d hate us later if we let you.”

Caleb groaned in protest. But he was about as weak as wet noodles by this point, easily bullied into obedience, so it didn’t take much effort to force him to sit up. Getting him to stay up, and sit still, was what really proved challenging. Roughly Molly slung an arm around Caleb’s shoulders, and pulled him down into an awkward embrace under Molly’s arm, since the wizard seemed to be in danger of falling.

Yasha wordlessly disappeared from the table to get towels, Jester playfully blocked a small rivulet of liquid from running off the end of the table, and then apparently everyone else decided it was a good game. Soon everyone but Beau (who was too busy swearing over the booze that had dripped in her lap) and Molly (who was keeping Caleb upright), were making little dams and blockades with their arms, until they were shoulder to shoulder trying to form a circle of arms to keep the ale in place. With mixed results.

Finally Yasha returned with a rough spun towel, and tossed it into the ring of joined arms and hands, soaking up whatever last remnants of alcohol hadn’t already stained clothing or painted the floor. Everyone was laughing, and nobody was paying any particular attention to Caleb tucked underneath Molly’s arm, except for Molly himself. The human made a half movement to sit up, swayed dangerously, and then collapsed against the nearest support, which was Mollymauk’s shoulder.

It worked, Molly supposed.

Apparently everyone wordlessly decided that the night couldn’t get any more exciting after that incident. Fjord started yawning, Beau repeatedly told Jester to quiet the fuck down, while Jester grew louder and more enthusiastic in her attempts to rouse everyone, and Yasha stared silently into the bottom of her cup. But the true lynchpin was the sound of Nott’s head bonking against the table, as she fell asleep sitting up and fell over. The sound made everyone jump, and Molly watched Jester’s face soften, as if even she was starting to think it was time for bed.

“Ok, that’s it fer’ me.” Fjord drawled, shaking himself awake, and polishing off the last of his drink. “I gotta get to bed...”

“Aw Fjord, why can’t we—“

“No. Jes I’m done.” Fjord cut her off, firmly holding up his hand to stop her from speaking. “I’m gonna pass out like Nott, if I don’t get some shut eye.”

“Me too.” Beau stated in a surly grumble. “I’m fucked.”

“Oh yeah,” Jester said, her face contorting with concern. “You did take that one big hit from that guy, huh?”

“Mmm, thanks for reminding me.” Beau said, which she clearly didn’t mean. “Someone should carry Nott, since Caleb is out of it.”

“I’ll do it!” Jester said, a little to eagerly, her volume making everyone groan. “I’ll tuck her into bed and everything!”

“She’s not’a baby Jester...” Fjord tiredly pointed out.

“Shut up! She’s nine years old, and I’m going to tuck her into bed, and give her lullaby’s for good sleep!”

“Well I don’t give a shit, as long as you’re quiet.” Beau said, already shuffling away from the table. “And don’t you dare make noise in the morning. I will murder the first person to wake me up during my hangover.”

“Sure, I’ll leave you alone, jeez.” Jester said with playful resentment.

Fjord followed after Beau, subtly leaning against chairs as he walked. Shuffling around the table, Jester scooped Nott up by her armpits, in order to carry her off towards sleep. The goblin looked strangely childlike, curled up in Jester’s arms like a baby, though this particular baby was snoring through serrated fangs and drooling on Jester’s shirt. Humming cheerfully, Jester skipped off, leaving Yasha, Molly, and Caleb alone at the table.

“I can carry him, if you want...” Yasha mumbled hesitantly.

“I’m perfectly fine dear,” Molly said with a flawed attempt at nonchalance. “I’ll take care of him.”

It was terribly unsubtle, and both of them knew it, but that didn’t really matter. Because after all...it was only Yasha...and Molly never had to pretend for her. She was the silent listener that talked less and noticed more, and had always been able to smell his bullshit, for all the hectic two years that he made it.

“Ok...” Yasha said slowly. “He’s very drunk.”

 _Be safe_ , was what she meant.

“Of course darling, I’m well aware of that.” Molly said with a razor edge grin, that both of them knew was harmless.

Even a horny and sexually frustrated Mollymauk Tealeaf would never take advantage of someone’s intoxication. No matter how much he might like to hint at the idea. That was all it took. Yasha nodded silently, and rose from the table without a protest, leaving Molly and Caleb alone.

Charm.

Hesitantly Molly glanced at the wizard under his arm. A pink flush was still glowing across Caleb’s cheeks, probably from alcohol at this point, and he looked for all the world as if he was asleep. But that was disproved as Caleb squinted one eye open, catching Molly peering down at him. Molly stopped staring...he also took another swig from his drink...

“What are you up to _Herr_ Tealeaf...” Caleb mumbled with drunken suspicion.

“I was just admirin’ your sexy face, pretty boy.” Molly said lightly, as if that wasn’t exactly what he had been doing.

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb said, with unusually open (and probably inebriated) contempt, “I am not sexy.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, pet.”

“I know best.”

“Everyone’s sexy in their own way.” Molly said with honey sweet slyness. “You’ve just gotta stop expecting everyone to be sexy in the exact same way, and start admirin’ a person’s individuality. It makes the sex much better.”

“And you’ve had enough experience to know.”

“Oh of course. I’ve fucked all kinds. There’s always somethin’ to enjoy.” Molly stated with shameless honesty, tilting his face up to the ceiling as if contemplating. “I’ve slept with an old codger that hadn’t a hair left on his head. Took him a while to get up, but gods did he love on me in the meantime, and he knew what to do with his hands...probably comes with experience. Besides, fucking someone old enough to be your father is all kinds of kinky. And I had a woman that was probably close to three hundred pounds in bed with me one time. Gods she was so soft, and when I ate her out she pretty much buried me. I couldn’t get enough of her...so yes...also kinky as fuck.”

The blush on Caleb’s cheeks definitely wasn’t just alcohol now.

“Does that convince you, or do ya want to hear more of my naughty stories?” Molly taunted, because he was drunk, and horny, and Caleb’s embarrassed interest was adorable. “I let a goliath man fuck me one time. Did ya know that some of them knot while they’re fucking? We did it like wolves. And I met an eighty year old woman that ran a brothel, and let me sub for two weeks. We never even needed to fuck, I just cleaned her house in nothing but lingerie, and if I did a good job she’d let me touch myself while she watched...still some of the best orgasms I’ve ever had...”

“You have had...some very exotic experiences...” Caleb said, with careful neutrality.

“As you see,” Molly agreed, “so really, I would know best.”

“ _Ja_.” Caleb halfheartedly acceded.

“I think you’re sexy Caleb.”

“Even though I am normal enough to make you go to sleep...”

“Darling, if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that absolutely no one is normal.”

“I am not an eighty year old woman watching you clean my house in lacy things.”

“Not _yet_.”

Molly couldn’t resist throwing that little taunt in. The opportunity was too perfect, too inviting, too fucking easy. Caleb out of depth, caught off guard, with Molly running circles around him. If there was one thing Molly could call himself the champion of: it was dirty talk.

For half a second Caleb blushed a speechless shade of beet red. Then he doubled over, coughing with gusto, until he was wheezing. Adorable. Molly wordlessly grabbed Yasha’s half full tankard, and slid it over to Caleb, as if offering him something to clear his throat. Caleb reached for the mug, but Molly held onto it as Caleb lifted it, and shamelessly fed him the ale.

It wasn’t by any means a sexy affair. They were both too wasted to navigate such a delicate task without fallout. Molly didn’t care. Caleb nearly choked on laughter, both of them got splashed with ale, and in Molly’s opinion Caleb didn’t let go like this nearly often enough.

“Ok,” Caleb said when Molly finally lowered the mug, “I am going to bed now.”

One step out of his chair, and Caleb nearly toppled over. Which had Molly out of his chair before he could think about it, and he just barely managed to catch the human, before he hit the tavern floor face first. Shouldering him once again, Molly endeavored to steady Caleb with his own (admittedly off balance) body.

“Ya might need some help with that, sweetheart.”

“ _Nein_ , I can do it.”

He didn’t pull away though.

With stumbling, faltering steps Mollymauk supported Caleb upstairs. Though really, it was more of an awkward mutual support, in which each man leaned heavily on the other. The strange effort had Caleb giggling like a schoolgirl by the time they made it upstairs, and Mollymauk silently resolved to get blackout drunk with the wizard more often in the future. Even the worst brain hemorrhaging hangover (and Molly was dreading his in the morning), would be worth seeing Caleb’s goofy side.

Finally Caleb reached the door of the room he and Nott had rented for the night, and he pulled away from Molly to lean heavily on the door as he unlocked it. Opening the door sent him tumbling through, once again barely landing on his feet, and Mollymauk drifted in after him. He felt cold now, needy, like a lost puppy trailing after a kindhearted stranger that had patted its head.

He wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet.

“Nott?” Caleb called questioningly as he straightened, swaying on his feet.

Silence answered him.

“Where did she go?” Caleb said, frowning anxiously even through his drunken state, and beginning to pick nervously at the hem of his jacket with paranoid urgency.

“Jester carried her upstairs,” Molly said, hovering by Caleb’s shoulder.

“But...she is not here...”

“Jester probably forgot they have separate rooms, and took her to bed. Or she just wanted a girl’s sleepover...”

Caleb was still shredding the hem of his coat.

“Stop that.” Molly said firmly, tugging the coat out of Caleb’s numb grip. “Caleb. Look at me.”

Surprisingly Caleb did. He was usually so averse to straightforward eye contact, but he obeyed the direct order without question. And when he did, Molly saw the tension in his shoulders uncoil a little, relaxing under the tiefling’s control.

Interesting.

“Listen to me,” Molly commanded with more gentleness, letting his voice soften as he realized its apparent power. “She’s fine Caleb. Jester accidentally took her to the wrong room, and she’s there right now, snoring her adorable little head off. You’ll see her in the morning, safe and sound, at breakfast just as usual.”

“ _Ja_...” Caleb said slowly, his anxious tension deflating as the sour air punched out of him all at once, and he sagged. “ _Ja_ , you are right.”

“Good boy.” Molly declared lightly, then he reached out to trail his fingertips across Caleb’s cheek, (because he couldn’t help himself). “Now, do ya need anything else, dear? Or are ya good for the night.”

“I am good,” Caleb said with a jerky nod. “ _Ja_ , I am good for now...I will be fucked in the morning, but...right now I’m good.”

“I might be able to help with the morning. I tried it on Beau one time,” Molly suddenly decided. “Maybe I could make you less fucked. If you want.”

“ _Nein_ , there is no need to trouble yourself—“ the human began to protest.

“Oh it’s no trouble...pretty, pretty, boy...” Mollymauk purred.

If there had been any doubt before, about whether or not Molly knew what the fuck he was doing, or had any control over his actions...well, there certainly wasn’t any doubt now...Because, in short, Molly _wants_ , and he doesn’t know how to do anything but make it outrageously obvious.

He leaned forward, and kissed the side of Caleb’s neck.

It was comparatively innocent, a slow press of lips against skin (he didn’t even use his tongue). But the heat of Caleb’s skin, the erratic speed of his heartbeat under Mollymauk’s lips, and Molly’s own less than subtle growl in response, were not. In fact, the sound that Molly made could only be described as predatory, and his tail had definitely begun to whip. Manipulating Caleb’s blood made the tiefling want to moan, the sudden heady intimacy of drawing the wizard’s blood towards himself. Sucking a pleasure mark into Caleb’s neck as he drew out the alcohol wasn’t unpleasant either.

Caleb was standing steadily when Molly pulled away, suddenly much more sober than he’d been a few seconds ago.

His pupils were definitely dilated.

Interesting...Until now Molly had labored under the delusion that Caleb was oblivious to his advances, and completely uninterested. Now that was being proved wrong. Caleb wasn’t disinterested. He was just clever about hiding it. Until a little too much ale had dulled both their inhibitions, Molly had pushed too far, too explicitly, and Caleb couldn’t disguise his interest.

This night might not be a total waste after all.

“Caleb, dearest...”

The wizard hummed weakly in response, already flushing before Molly said a word.

“I would like to kiss you.” Mollymauk Tealeaf stated seductively. “Very. _Very_. Explicitly.”


	2. The Old Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Resisting your soul is walking a tightrope. The distant sound of dangerous ground: wolves are calling._
> 
> _And I was never afraid of the dark. No, I was never afraid until you._
> 
> [Afraid Of the Dark](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=N-o04MhuoMY), by Phildel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo Cherrio! I finally got enough time to get this second chapter together and post it. I’m only getting one page, at most two, written every few days right now. Which is frustrating as fuck, because I used to have hours everyday for writing to my horny heart’s content. 
> 
> Well, thats just life. Enjoy the chapter, and know that I’m doing my best to keep this fic at the forefront of my focus, when I get time.

Caleb wants, but he doesn’t _want_.

He can’t.

The thing he wants is a nebulous idea, a faint magnetic tug like a compass pointing north. No matter where he is, it seems like Mollymauk is always North. It’s an awareness on the edge of his perception, a sensitivity along the length of his body, and that faint ever present tug at the back of his mind.

But he doesn’t _want_.

He shouldn’t.

At first it was only fear. Caleb is a man of shadows, of secrets, and carefully navigated safety. And Mollymauk? Mollymauk Tealeaf is anything but a man in the shadows. The Nein are boisterous, impulsive, even abrasive, but Molly is a different story all together. If there were ever a religion to living life like it’s a party, Mollymauk Tealeaf would be its Enlightened Prophet.

So at first it’s fear.

When Molly pranced into the tavern and singlehandedly dominated their conversation for five straight minutes, Caleb felt the kind of primal fear one would experience when handling unstable explosives. Like he was about to get blown to pieces any second. When Molly fearlessly strode around in his visual assault of colors, like Joseph in his many colored coat, Caleb ached to turn tail and run, as if Molly’s flamboyance was a disease in danger of spreading. And when Molly spoke, he was so unapologetically showy, that Caleb couldn’t read where the show ended and the real intentions began. And not understanding Mollymauk scared Caleb, because he needed to understand _everything_. Or he’d never be truly safe.

But what started as fear, quickly turned into a kind of speechless veneration. A sense of intimidated awe. Molly was so careless. So free, so fearless, so...stupid. He did nothing but draw attention, in the kind of thoughtless way that Caleb could only wish for. Somehow Mollymauk made everybody love him, without even trying, without even being aware of it as far as Caleb could tell. He breathed charisma like it was air. Everybody loved Mollymauk.

And that was what scared Caleb...Because everybody loved Trent...

He told himself to stay away.

Then Caleb slipped...no, more accurately he _snapped_...He lost himself. And it was Molly, the heartless showman, the insincere carny, that pulled him back. It was carefree Mollymauk Tealeaf that cared. The tiefling kissed his forehead, and told him ‘later’ instead of ‘never’, and for some reason Caleb believed him. Caleb trusted him.

And after that it was a downward spiral, as the awe changed into respect. Which turned into a kind of envy. Caleb envied Molly. This bright spot of color in a monochrome existence, this voice that no one could silence, this life that had no past to burden it. Like a man living in the dark, who fell in love with color, Caleb envied Molly.

Caleb would give everything to not remember his past.

So Caleb wants. Molly was rich, and Caleb had nothing. Molly could laugh, and Caleb could barely smile. Molly loved, and Caleb suspected. Molly had a nebulous something and Caleb couldn’t stop trying to name it, trying to understand it.

The truth was, that Molly loved himself. And Caleb couldn’t have that.

And now, here he was, face to face with the free spirit he envied, petrified by the realization that this rainbow life wanted to kiss him.

Caleb wants...but now he suddenly _needs_.

It took his breath away. An ache that suddenly stabbed through his chest, pleading, demanding, dragging him in Molly’s direction. Molly wanted to kiss him, and something primal in Caleb’s chest was begging for it.

“ _J—ja_ , that—“ Caleb stammered clumsily, “I—I would like that, ja...”

“Wonderful.” Mollymauk purred.

The tiefling’s fingers brushed across his cheek. Caleb’s heart was pounding wildly out of rhythm by this point, rushing so loudly in his ears, he couldn’t hear anything else. He was terrified. Frightened out of his wits, but so eager, he struggled not to whimper.

As Molly carefully leaned forward and kissed him.

It was nothing world shattering, no sudden earthquake, no bolt of lightning from a clear sky. Molly kissed him, and the tiefling’s lips were soft, his skin was warm, and Caleb could feel him smiling through the kiss. It was...nice...Slow, almost careful, as if Caleb were a skittish animal that Molly was trying hard not to scare away. It was nice enough to make Caleb relax, slightly, a faint uncoiling in the constant tension of his shoulders that never fully went away. Nice enough to make him smile through the kiss too, just for a moment.

Then one of Molly’s hands cupped the side of his face, tilting his head up to change the angle, and suddenly Molly’s kiss was completely different altogether. Mollymauk pressed harder, more skillfully, like he was moulding clay with his mouth, and Caleb was already softening. Somehow Molly had Caleb’s mouth open before the wizard could think about it, and he felt the heat of Molly’s breath clashing against his own, filling his lungs. That was a different kind of nice.

It was too much, but somehow not nearly enough, Molly still moving at an agonizingly slow pace. But it was a teasing leisure now, the tiefling flagrantly taking his time. As he cupped Caleb’s face, the rasp of sharpened claws just biting into his skin, gently teasing his mouth in half realized shapes and brushes of skin. And Caleb found himself undeniably panting, breath coming short and heavy, as he struggled to lean in closer. Gods he actually wanted more.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted more.

For a moment Molly pulled away, and part of Caleb’s heart fractured at the idea that this might be it. He’d been too boring after all, too inexperienced, too clumsy, too eager, or perhaps all of the above. In the end, he’d been right, he wasn’t sexy enough to keep up with Molly’s overwhelming confidence.

At that moment Molly’s hand returned, slithering like liquid up the side of Caleb’s neck, until one clawed thumb was pressed just underneath Caleb’s chin. And the wizard found the bravery to open his eyes. The tiefling was actually grinning, no disappointment, no judgment; instead it was a cheeky, almost smug, grin of satisfaction. Like Molly had just made up a joke he was itching to tell someone, or learned a secret that nobody else knew about. He looked dangerous.

He looked...Desirable...

The hand under Caleb’s chin slid upwards, the red flicker of Molly’s eyes already dropping suggestively downwards, until both clawed thumb and blood red gaze were lingering hot and pointed over Caleb’s mouth. A faint rasp of talon against his lower lip and Caleb yielded, opening under Molly’s silent direction, as the tiefling pressed with his thumb. The submission earned a delighted hum of approval from Mollymauk, that reverberated through Caleb’s bones like he was a struck bell, and rewarded him more than he wanted to think about.

Molly’s thumb against his lip pressed farther, making Caleb flinch with surprise, as Molly pressed into his mouth. The clawed tip scratched feather light across his tongue, the pad pressing firmly downwards. Caleb didn’t know what to do. Part of him (a revolting tug of perversion) wanted to close his mouth around that finger and suck on it, and another part of him (a creeping whisper of shame) couldn’t let him. Between the two sides he was held trapped, unable either follow his lascivious desires or obey his respectable conscience. All he could manage was a faint shift of his tongue, pressing up invitingly against Molly’s finger, shifting underneath the clawed pressure.

It was apparently enough for Mollymauk. The lavender devil grinned again with a delighted shudder, his thumb massaging playfully against Caleb’s shrinking tongue. And Molly watched, eyes unblushingly fixed on Caleb’s open mouth, with that little half grin that Caleb couldn’t stop staring at. Apparently Mollymauk noticed Caleb’s attention on his mouth, because still grinning, and still unapologetically suggestive, he teasingly licked his lips.

Mollymauk’s tongue was forked, and fuck, it was the most seductive thing Caleb had ever seen.

Then Molly was leaning forward, his thumb at the corner of Caleb’s mouth holding the wizard open and vulnerable. And he ran the two forked points of that tongue across Caleb’s lower lip. Caleb’s breath punched out of his lungs all at once as a heavy shuddering exhale, not a moan, but for Caleb’s reservation something close to it, as the heat of Molly’s tongue flicked over his lip. And then before he could think about it, he’d actually chased after Mollymauk’s retreating tongue, trying to lean closer and keep the slick heat.

For once, Caleb actually wanted this...when was the last time that had happened?

He only had time for that belated thought, before Molly’s tongue was back. And gods yes, the heat was in his mouth now, pressing into him, coaxing him into melting. The tiefling was hot, overwhelmingly warm, a slick heated coil that had him clumsily trying to keep up. Mollymauk was devouring him, there was no other way to put it. Caleb couldn’t keep up, but with Molly’s far superior skill and constant teasing he didn’t need to. Every touch of Molly’s tongue had him struggling to respond, blind and deaf to everything but the tiefling’s coaxing directions, that were drawing him out. It was forked, and predatory. Soft with just a hint of hard metallic, where Caleb’s tongue discovered Molly’s peircing, and he shuddered at the juxtaposed feel of it. Which Molly apparently felt and _encouraged_ , because the belly of his tongue where the peircing sat pressed up against Caleb’s demandingly, and the tiefling moaned shamelessly when Caleb prodded it.

Molly was pressing up close to him, seducing with more than just his mouth at this point. He was drawing Caleb out with everything. The dance of Molly’s hands raked through his hair, finally settling in at the base of his neck, pulling him in. As if Molly’s entire person had just turned into sticky tape, it felt like every inch of his lithe body had suddenly adhered to Caleb’s own brittle stiff form. The weight put him off kilter, stumbling out of balance, but Molly’s unwavering silent directions were the saving grace. Before Caleb could have landed them both on the floor, Molly maneuvered him backwards, until he felt the sudden support of the wall behind him.

Once Caleb was propped up, Molly leaned up against him with his entire weight. And Caleb really, really didn’t want to think about how much he enjoyed the weight of it, how grounding it was to be held down. Held in place. Molly’s finger’s scratched through the hair at the base of his neck as he dragged his hands down over Caleb’s chest, dropping down to wrap around Caleb’s hips at a level that couldn’t be called anything but intimate. And then Molly’s hands were holding him still and drawing him forward at the same time, as the tiefling’s body pressed up against Caleb’s and undulated.

For a moment Caleb was off kilter, startled and confused. He didn’t understand. Then Molly crushed their hips together, desperate and wanting, and Caleb felt the hardened heat between Molly’s legs press against his thigh, as Molly moaned high in his throat and thready. Then the wizard suddenly understood...Molly was grinding on him...

And Caleb felt his cock twitch.

Fuck. Molly growled in approval as soon as Caleb’s cock stirred, and Caleb wanted to shrivel up like a wilting plant. Shit. He bit down on Caleb’s lower lip and tugged, sending a pulse of pain through the haze of pleasure, and Caleb’s cock jumped in response.

Gods he was such a fuckup wasn’t he. All Molly had asked for was a kiss, and here Caleb was, getting aroused like a needy slut. And now that he’d started to unravel, he couldn’t stop. He was half hard already, and starting to grind against Molly’s too inviting flesh in spite of himself. The functions of his body, too long dormant, too rigidly suppressed, were surging out of control now. He was burning up like a fuse, aroused and ready to breed.

How fucking vulgar.

Then Molly’s exploring hands were pawing at his shame, undoing the lacing of his trousers to expose him. And all conscious thought vanished like a puff of smoke, in the face of heart stopping, viciously suffocating Fear. Caleb flinched away, choking on his tongue, as a sob caught like a nail in his throat.

“Caleb?”

 _This is for your own good Caleb_.

He couldn’t breathe. It hurt. A scream ached in his chest, trapped with nowhere to go. The posture of his body suddenly folded, crumbling in on himself like fragile glass, as he staggered to the floor. Curled up behind his knees, the old shadow came.

_This...your own good...Caleb..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, in case you were wondering, I don’t have much time to keep up on comment threads, and interactions with you all. But I do get the notifications, and read them, so please leave a comment if you have any thoughts. It’s very encouraging to get feedback, and helps me keep motivated.
> 
> Just didn’t want anyone to get the impression that don’t give a fuck about you lovely people, or what y’all are thinking. I still love to hear from you, even if I don’t have time to say so <3


	3. A Broken Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Where do you go, when those darker wild eyes show? If I lead you straight up to the loneliest landscape you knew, Boy, would you care, if you lost me there?_
> 
> [Switchblade](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=puKqqj5EObw), by Phildel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squeeeeeeeee!!! Another update!!! The writing gods have blessed me, and I find myself with a new chapter already.
> 
> Very slight Trigger Warning detailed at the end of the chapter. Again, very slight, but just so ya know.

Molly felt it the moment everything turned. He prided himself on being perceptive, and he could feel it the moment Caleb’s pleasure turned sour.

That was the disgusting truth of it.

The truth was, that Molly knew, and he pushed anyway. Pushed, invaded, _touched_. Because for that moment something, or someone, surged outwards, like a phantom voice still lingering in his muscles. And for that one moment, Molly’s Past saw Caleb’s pain, and felt vindictively powerful. He felt powerful, and controlling, and it was the single most arousing feeling he’d ever experienced. As he watched Caleb shatter, and it got him off. Hard.

And then Caleb dropped like a dead weight, and Molly’s thrill of triumphant cruelty drained away as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him revolted enough to vomit. A wave of nauseous horror nearly made Mollymauk empty his stomach, as he realized what he’d just done, what he’d just given into. But concern for Caleb overrode his own self loathing.

The poor boy was enough to break Molly’s heart. Caleb’s face had gone void, everything blank and lost, as he stared confusedly at the ground in front of him. Hidden behind his little protective ball, the wizard was beginning to breathe too rapid, too labored, each gasp clearly an effort.

This was all Mollymauk’s fault.

For a moment the tiefling felt his eyes burn with emotion that demanded some kind of release. But not the time, not the time. Caleb was hurting, this wasn’t the time. Sternly tamping himself down, Molly desperately wracked his brains for some kind of solution, something to make it better, dropping to his knees in front of the wizard.

“Caleb?” He hazarded.

The sound of his voice made Caleb visibly flinch, curling up more tightly upon himself. But what really broke Molly’s heart, sent a fracture through the center of it, was when Caleb looked at him. His eyes had gone wide and glassy, pupils dilated until there was almost nothing of his blue left, and he stared fixedly at Molly like a coiled fearful animal. But worst of all, was the fact that Caleb, the brilliant, bumbling, deeply wounded man Molly knew, had completely vanished. It was nothing but dissociative fear.

“Fuck, Caleb, I’m so sorry,” Molly burst out.

He reflexively reached out to touch Caleb’s shoulder, before he could think better of it. And it made him want to cut his own hand off. Caleb gave a strangled moan like a wounded animal, trying to crawl away, though the wall at his back left him nowhere to go.

“No! No— _Nien_ , I mean—“ Molly stammered, his usually silver tongue at a loss, as he struggled for words that Caleb might understand. “I won’t—I’m sorry—“ he held his hands up, as if in surrender. “I won’t touch you.”

Caleb was beginning to shiver behind his knees. An uncontrollable tremor, like being trapped in extreme cold, that was beginning to seize his body. And he was still staring wordlessly at Molly, with an attention that was completely unlike the usual Caleb. Molly felt his stomach clench up with concern. Gods, he didn’t know what to fucking do.

“Come on baby.” Molly whispered, clenching his teeth against the tears that demanded to come, “pull out of it.”

Caleb stared at him mute.

The copper taste of blood filled Molly’s mouth, as he thoughtlessly bit down on his tongue until it bled. Sitting frozen on the ground, with the wizard trembling helplessly in front of him, Molly forced himself to breathe and consider his options. The only thing that appeared to be helpful was leaving Caleb alone, and for a moment he considered doing just that.

Then he pushed the idea away with a frustrated growl. He couldn’t leave. What kind of sick fuck would cause this situation, and then just leave his mess behind? Molly wasn’t that sort of man. Besides, experience had taught him that it was never safe to be left alone with fear.

He wouldn’t leave.

So what next? That was less easy to decide. His own...episodes...had been so blurred and confused that Molly hardly remembered how those around him had helped. All he knew was that there had been friends to help him. _Yasha_ had helped him.

Yasha could do something. And she wouldn’t judge. Going to Jester would cause a scene of concern and surprise, going to Fjord or Beau would lead to questions and accusations, and Nott would skip straight past the accusations and slit his throat. But Yasha, with her grave reservation would silently aid Caleb first, and ask her questions later.

Besides, Caleb trusted her. He’d asked for her advice, actively reached out for her friendship, which was a rarity for him. And she’d always been there for Molly, so she might know what to do now. Yasha.

Which left him with the question: leave Caleb and fetch her, or bring Caleb to her? Examining the wizard, Molly weighed his options. If he left, did he trust Caleb not to hurt himself, or run away...

Another strangled whimper clawed its way out of Caleb’s throat, as Molly took his arm, and the wizard yanked away sharply. It was such a pitiful sound that Molly nearly yielded and let him go, as if he’d tried touch a wounded kitten, that cried when he moved it. But he sucked in a deep breath through his nose, and forced himself to trap Caleb’s arm.

“Shhh,” he hissed through his teeth, hoping vaguely that it was a soothing sound. “I’ve got ya baby boy.”

Guiding Caleb’s arm, Molly found to his relief that the wizard was mutely compliant after the first resistance. He meekly allowed himself to be directed where ever Molly wanted him to go, and that was a relief. Part of Molly had been trying to silence the paranoid fear that he would have to take Caleb with him kicking and screaming. Thankfully that wasn’t the case, as he quietly pulled the wizard down the hallway to the door of the girl’s room.

Before Molly could knock on the door, Yasha slithered around it, surprisingly silent for her huge size. The appearance made Molly jump, on edge as he was.

“I heard you outside.” Yasha said shortly, after she carefully latched the door.

“I need a wee bit of help dearest.” Molly hissed, pulling forward the catatonic form of Caleb.

The wizard was still shivering. The tremors were becoming more noticeable now, enough to make Molly teeter on the edge of his own panic, scrambling with mounting desperation for a way to help him. Breathing labored and choked through his nose, Caleb was staring straight ahead, blinking in a confused way that broke Molly’s heart.

“He’s...out of it?” Yasha said, her words falling laughably short of the situation.

“I couldn’t just leave him...”

For a moment Yasha glanced quietly between Caleb, and Mollymauk, as if judging the situation. And for that one moment Molly felt a spike of panic, and blended vulnerability. It was a split second sensation of having nothing on, revealed in all his twisted nakedness, the truth of his vindictive episode exposed to the light. The fear that Yasha would turn him away, roiled like a dark cloud at the back of his mind.

“Ok.” Yasha stated tonelessly.

She reached out without another word, and took Caleb’s arm, (Molly felt the wizard flinch), and silently began leading him back towards the room he shared with Nott. Or, in other words, she led both of them. Since Molly wouldn’t leave Caleb’s side, it was a small procession.

Pushing back through the door into the small room, Yasha glanced around, as if considering.

“He shouldn’t be alone.” She decided quietly. Then, “we should get him wrapped up in something...pull the blankets on the bed back, so I can put him in...”

Obediently Molly leapt across the room, hurriedly throwing back the blankets on the shitty tavern bed. Task accomplished, he turned around to keep track of Yasha, watching the hulking woman as she moved. Yasha meanwhile pulled Caleb over to the side of the bed, positioning him to be close to the shelter she intended to tuck him in, and she began mechanically pulling away pieces of mud spattered clothing.

As she pulled away Caleb’s scarf, the wizard let out a whimpering moan, reaching to trying and hold onto the fabric. Molly’s stomach ached. In response Yasha hummed gently, still firmly moving to take off Caleb’s coat. As she began tugging apart the coat, Caleb tried clumsily to hold it closed, shivering hard and making a wounded animal whimpering sound in the back of his throat. Molly wanted to gag by the time she pulled it off, biting down on his tongue until he tasted more blood, as Caleb struggled hard. Then he sobbed, breaking into feeble pleading Zemnian.

“ _Nicht—bitte nicht, ich verspreche, ich werde gut sein_ —“

Without a word, Yasha began undoing the clasp of his belt. Caleb was sobbing in earnest. The kind of deep, aching sobs, that sounded like knives through his chest, and would have had him in a fetal position if Yasha wasn’t holding him upright. The white skinned woman only continued to pull off the belt, the harness of his books, and the roughspun tunic over his linen shirt.

Finally she pushed him sideways, seating him on the bed as she unbuckled his boots. And then she gently guided him down further, laying him out sideways, slinging his legs up onto the bed, and pulling the blankets over him. As soon as the blanket covered him, Caleb curled up, disappearing completely under the covering, and Molly could still hear his muffled crying.

“You should go.” Yasha declared firmly, straightening up, and visually evaluating her work as she spoke.

“What.”

“You.” She said again. “You should go.”

“W-why?!” Molly exclaimed frowning sharply. “I can’t! I’m worried about him, I can’t just—“

“Molly.” Yasha’s quiet but unbending firmness forced the tiefling to lapse into silence. “Caleb is...very dark...right now. And something set him off, but I don’t know what. So until I do, I can’t be sure that you’re not part of it, or that you’re not going to send him downwards again.”

The tiefling stood still, his tail beginning to whip vengefully. But he had no counter argument to her point.

“Besides...” she continued, more gently, as her face softened. “I don’t think seeing him like this is good for you either...don’t you trust me?”

Her quiet, almost hesitant question, made Molly’s shoulders uncoil as his breath punched out of him all at once. That was the truth of it. He did trust her. He trusted her enough to confide this entire shit show to her care, to expose all the fucked up shit in his head—no in _Lucien’s_ head—to her judgment, and he trusted her more than anything to take care of Caleb.

“‘Course I do, darling.” He said, posture softening as he admitted defeat.

“Then you know I’m going to keep him safe,” Yasha said. “And you safe too...so you should go...”

Reluctantly Molly glanced down at the untidy hump that was Caleb. Underneath the blankets the wizard had gone silent, the abnormal mass become eerily still. Molly nodded, jerky and reluctant, agreeing with Yasha. It took an inhuman effort to wrench himself away, but the tiefling managed it, turning around and walking mechanically to the door.

A final glance back showed him Yasha, silently taking a seat by the bed, and the unmoving form of Caleb under the covers. Molly’s eyes burned, a fresh wave of poisonous self loathing running through his blood...What he wouldn’t give, in order to have the ability to take a knife, and carve Lucien’s flesh out of his body, like a butcher cutting pork...

He left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for: brief sensations of pleasure from committing sexual assault...
> 
> Sort of...
> 
> Lol idk.


	4. Conversations and Convictions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Did my invitations disappear? Why'd I put my heart on every cursive letter? Tell me why the hell no one is here. Tell me what to do to make it all feel better._
> 
> [Pity Party](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6bAPlojfgO0), by Melanie Martinez.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving Break amiright? 
> 
> Anyway, I cobbled together another update.

The Mighty Nein were morbidly hungover.

Hunched over their drinks, and lackluster breakfasts, the group’s members were medicating in their own private ways. Fjord had resigned himself to the fact that he was going to experience a shitty morning and was currently shoveling down eggs in grim silence with a brimming mug of water by his elbow, Beau had resorted to a dose of morning alcohol to wash down last night’s bad choices, Jester was kicking her feet and doodling in her sketchbook with her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. Apparently she was the only one immune to the general sour attitude that affected her fellows.

Noticeably absent from the table were the forms of Nott (who according to Jester was still sleeping), Yasha (who Molly knew was privately occupied), and Caleb (who’s absence he didn’t want to think about). For himself Mollymauk had given up on trying to function properly. With a full plate in front of him that he had yet to touch, the tiefling had tried first to eat, and then to watch Jester sketch, and finally to shuffle through his Tarot. Everything proved useless, even the cards, that were usually Molly’s last resort under stress.

Yasha descending the stairs, made Molly bolt upright. Last night’s events, and all the horror that came with them, flooded his mind as if it were only moments ago, and he was vibrating with concern by the time she took her seat. Eerily silent, Yasha joined the rest of the Nein. Caleb still noticeably absent.

“Where’s Caleb?” Molly demanded under his breath as soon as she’d settled.

“Fine.” Yasha replied. “He’s fine. Nott came in, and I left him with her.”

“You left him.”

“He said her name,” Yasha explained, “I thought it was best to leave them together.”

Molly nearly growled, the fierce side of his tiefling nature rising up in frustration. Glancing first at his face, and then at his restless tail, Yasha reached out to pat his shoulder. It didn’t reassure him very much.

“He’ll be perfectly safe with her, “Yasha murmured gently, “she loves him like a son. She’ll do more good than we can.”

“I feel like a fuckin’ asshole.” Molly snarled softly, resisting the urge to rip his tarot deck in half.

“Same.”

As if to prove Yasha’s point, Nott appeared alone at the bottom of the stairs. For a moment Molly watched her pause, glancing over the group, and he fancied her eyes rested on his form a moment longer than the rest. It was so fleeting, he might have imagined it. Walking resolutely across the common room, Nott clambered up onto a barstool and began speaking to the tavern keep. Then she sat, arms folded, starring blankly at the wall.

Several minutes passed, before the barkeep returned, carrying two plates of breakfast food. Nott slid a glitter of coins across the counter, and then carefully retrieved the two plates, and took them upstairs. Molly watched her vanish, and felt his stomach turn icy. So that’s the way things were.

Neither Nott or Caleb left their room for the rest of the day.

<><><>

“Molly.” The sound of Yasha’s voice, made Molly jump, lost in thought until she disturbed him.

He’d found a corner by one of the only windows in the rundown tavern they were currently staying in, and set up his own little encampment. It consisted of nothing more than his coat spread over the table, and his tarot cards endlessly shuffled and re-dealt in a never ending monotony. Lost in his own mental fog, he’d been trying to parse out the future, but the cards were evading him.

“I want to talk.” Yasha said, sitting down at the table across from him.

Molly grunted.

“About Caleb.” She continued to persist.

The fact that two simple words could carry so much guilty meaning, made Mollymauk suppress a shudder. He’d been trying to avoid this discussion. Nearly a week had passed already, in which Nott and Caleb had been barricaded incommunicado in their room, and the rest of the Nein had resorted to renting rooms nightly in order to keep from leaving the two behind.

Not even a week, and Molly felt ready to lose his fucking mind.

“Caleb.” Molly agreed, without agreeing.

“I don’t know what happened.”

“You’ve certainly taken your time in asking...”

“Yea, well, I’ve been busy, and now I want to know.” Yasha said, with the faintest hint of annoyance.

Apparently pissing off his friends (and wouldbe mores) had become his new profession.

“Well I don’t know either.” Molly growled.

“Molls.”

“I don’t know!” Molly snapped back, before he could catch himself, and several bar patrons glanced in their direction. “I don’t fucking know. I asked to kiss him, and he said yes, and he liked it, and we were just getting somewhere interesting when he—“

The tiefling broke off, as his voice died on his tongue, and the word _Broke_ went unspoken. He spasmodically clenched down on the tarot cards, making them bend dangerously close to creasing, before he forced himself to put them down on the table. His head drooped.

“So it just...happened...” Yasha probed carefully.

“No, it didn’t just—“ Molly protested, and then cut himself off, moodily chewing on his tongue.

“Well?”

“Lucien.” Mollymauk spat out venomously, after several seconds of weighted silence. “The sick fuck showed up, and pushed Caleb over.”

“Lucien...upset Caleb...”

“I—he— _We_ kept—fuck—“ Molly hissed, gagging on his words and hunching over the spread of cards in front of him. “I fucking hate Him. The way He makes me fucking feel—“

Words disappeared into sickened silence, as Molly convulsively gripped into his palms until they bled, the talons of his hands sinking deep into tender flesh. Then Yasha’s hands were silently forcing his to uncurl, cradling the wounded palms. And Molly shivered, yielding to her gentleness, but hunching under the overwhelming burden of Not Enough. He wasn’t good enough to deserve this.

“Just...tell me what He did.” Yasha said, unbearably gentle, not a shred of judgment in her voice.

“I felt it the moment Caleb stopped enjoying it,” Molly whispered in a rush, struggling to speak quickly as if he couldn’t force himself for more than a few seconds. “I felt it, and then...He was there, and He kept pushing even though Caleb didn’t fucking like it, and we started touching Caleb without—and he—“

“Broke.” Yasha finished grimly, gripping firmly into Molly’s hands as he struggled to cut his palms again.

“I think that’s what he did—“ Molly gasped in a rush. “That’s what we used to do, what _I_ used to do: used to get off on hurting people. I felt so fucking good when I did that Yash, when I touched him, I liked it—“

“Molly.”

“I mean, who the hell does that?! Touches someone when they don’t want to, and enjoys it. I got off on it. I got aroused, like some disgusting pervert, from playing with Caleb’s dick when he—“

“Mollymauk. Tealeaf.” Yasha snapped loudly, cutting across Molly’s verbal vomit.

Holding his hands open, she leaned forward to look him in the eye. It only lasted for a moment, before Molly could no longer look at her, and dropped his eyes. Gazing at his bloody hands, held safely in hers, he had no words left to say.

“You are Mollymauk.” She stated slowly, and carefully, as if it were a lesson she was teaching to a toddler. The thought made him want to laugh with ironic mirthlessness, because really, that’s all he was. A goddamn toddler, stumbling around in this adult body, while having less than four years of experience to his name.

“ _You_ didn’t do that Molly. No matter what Lucien, or Nonagon, or anybody else from...before...might have felt. You didn’t do that.”

“I hurt him Yasha,” Molly protested in a whisper. “I hurt him, and I liked it.”

“You’ve always been into that Molly!” Yasha said, rolling her eyes. “I walked in on you letting some woman beat your dick with a riding crop! But that’s not the same thing ok? You don’t hurt someone against their will, you don’t do it without everyone enjoying it. You don’t take things without asking. Ok? So maybe Lucien did that, but you didn’t, and you wouldn’t. I know that.”

The silence in Molly’s mouth said better than any words: _“but I don’t.”_

“Stop torturing yourself over it. I know you, and you are not Lucien.”

“I used to be,” Molly hissed under his breath, so quietly, it sounded like air through a crack.

“Well you’re not Him now.” Yasha declared with disconcerting confidence. “That said...do you have any idea why Caleb was upset? Because that...was really bad...and we shouldn’t just act like nothing happened.”

“I don’t know.” He said defeatedly, shrugging slightly. “He was fine, until...I don’t know...he just wasn’t fine anymore.”

“When did he snap?”

“What, you want me to give you all the dirty details?” Molly said with tired bravado, that neither of them accepted as remotely real.

Yasha’s only answer was a deadpan look, that silently spoke of all the other dirty details she had inadvertently seen or heard in their travel with the circus.

“I was kissing him,” Molly said, answering her look with his own honesty, “and he nearly fell over, so I pinned him up against the wall. Then I started grinding on him, and he was finally starting to get it up, and push back but...it was like he didn’t want to...”

For several moments Yasha only stared silently at their joined hands, deep in thought, before she finally said “did you ask if he was a virgin?”

_Fuck._

Molly’s head thunked audibly, and painfully, on the table, as his forehead met wood.

“No.”

“I mean, if he is, maybe he was overwhelmed,” she continued thoughtfully. “That would be a lot to deal with, if you’ve never slept with...another man...before.”

“I should have asked.” Molly said, voice muffled by the table in his face. “I didn’t even think—how old is he? I mean, how many men are still virgins at thirty or whateverthefuck?!?”

“I only asked, if you’d asked.” Yasha said gravely. “I didn’t say that I thought that was the answer...”

“What then? You’ve got other theories?”

The only answer he got was a rebuking shake of the head. And then they were both silent, Yasha gazing out the grimy tavern window, Mollymauk face down among his cards. Both joined, hand to hand, friendship to friendship, as the afternoon darkened toward evening.

<><><>

“Whatcha drawin’ there Jessie, dearest?”

Jester smiled widely as Mollymauk leaned over her shoulder, to get a glimpse of her sketch book.

“I had, basically, the best idea ever.” She declared, glowing as she spoke, and holding up the book for inspection. “I’m making a little invitation.”

Molly looked at the picture.

It didn’t look like an invitation. In fact, it didn’t look like Jester’s artwork in general. No hamster unicorns, or defiled images of acquaintances. For those not accustomed to Jester’s art style, this little sketch might have seemed like a much better picture, more skillfully drawn, than her usual twisted imaginations.

It was a picture of their group, every single member, drinking at a table.

“Are ya makin’ invitations for a drinkin’ night, because I don’t think ya need to bother.” Molly said, examining the simple picture with his head on one side. “You could probably just ask.”

“That’s not what it’s for silly!” Jester said disdainfully, bending back over her drawing.

“Is it somethin’ you’re telling the Traveler about then?”

“No.” Jester said, kicking her feet like a child on a brick wall, as she busily sketched. “I’m asking Nott and Caleb to be friends with us again.”

Mollymauk stared, as Jester hummed, and kicked her feet.

“Are you going to sign it?” He finally said, after a long weighted silence.

“No...” she glanced up at him. “Do you think I should?”

“We’ll both sign it.”


	5. Where the Cards Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Armor on. You use your heart as a fortress. Ticking bombs. All the weapons are useless. So can you just let down your guard? Before everything is marred. Armor on, you use your heart as a fortress._
> 
> [Fortress](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=7gF-05RYizs), by Illenium. 
> 
> (I fucking _love_ this song. Y’alls need it in your life.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, ok, so this one is a Buttload of content. I could split it up, but I don’t really wanna bother, and that feels kinda cheep anyway. So yay! Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> On another note (CHAPTER SPOILERS INCOMING)
> 
> I tried to do a lot of research on tarot decks, but it was just a lot of information, and I wasn’t sure if this would be considered a real reading anyway. At the same time if I would expect anyone to know the actual tarot cards, it would be our local demigod of Goth and Fashionable Undeath: Taliesin Jaffe. He didn’t appear to be drawing from traditional cards, so I decided that Exandria has its own Tarot Deck tradition, that’s different from ours, and the Royals-while similar in meanings-have different names and images. It was just a convenient way to get out of actually doing any research. 
> 
> Sorry not sorry lol

Fjord, Beau, Molly, Jester, and Yasha were all communally enjoying a shitty tavern dinner, when Caleb and Nott unexpectedly joined them. Nott appeared first, leading along a skittish wizard by the hand, as she wove through the tables to their now customary booth. She scrabbled up onto a chair, Caleb silently took a seat next to her, and everyone else stared in shocked silence.

“Dude.” Beau said, as if that one word could express all her thoughts.

“Hello.” Yasha stated simply.

“Nott! Caleb!” Jester squeaked.

“Hello there—“ Fjord jerkily stammered.

A long pregnant pause hung on the air.

“What the fuck.” Beau unceremoniously snapped. “I mean like, what the actual fuck. Where the fuck—“

“—what she means is: It’s good to have you back with us.” Fjord hastily interrupted.

“Hi.” Nott rasped awkwardly.

Silence.

“Should I...get a round of something?” Yasha queried.

“Probably.” Fjord said, in a fatalistic version of his Dad Voice.

“I want whiskey,” Beau growled, “and not the bullshit stuff.”

“Same here,” Nott quavered.

Fjord grunted, Jester made a face, Molly gave Yasha a Look.

“Right.” She said tightly. “Whiskey it is then...”

Quietly Yasha rose from the table, and Mollymauk slithered out of his chair after her, following after his friend. She pretended not to notice, which would have bothered Molly, if he knew her less. As it was, he wasn’t surprised. Yasha pretended to be oblivious to everything.

“Can I get some drinks please.” Yasha said, when she reached the corner where the barkeep spent his evenings cleaning mugs with an equally dirty rag.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” The barkeep asked.

“Just a strong...strong...“

“A shot of something then?”

“Yeah.”

Wordlessly Yasha supported her elbows against the counter, as the tavern keep began to pour a (for Yasha especially) extremely tiny glass. Groaning dramatically, Molly slumped onto the wood next to her, letting his forehead thunk against the countertop.

“Fuck.” He said. It seemed like the most appropriate word at the moment.

Yasha hummed.

“He’s alive.”

“Yes he is.” Yasha agreed tonelessly, her asymmetrical gaze tracking the tavern keeper.

“Yash!” Mollymauk whined in response, still facedown on the countertop. “I mean—what the fuck!”

“Theeeere ya go, one of the best.” The bartender said, completely interrupting their conversation, as he set the brimming shot glass down with a solid thunk.

“Oh,” Yasha frowned, “I’m gonna need five more of these...”

Clearly, the tavern keeper felt that she could have shared that fact sooner.

“Actually make it ten.” She added.

As the man gruffly went back to laboriously pouring out five more shots, Molly groaned theatrically, and Yasha pulled over her drink.

“Yasha.”

“I don’t see what the problem is.” She said offhandedly, pounding her drink at the end of her sentence, as if to prove her point.

“What am I supposed to do?!?” Molly said, furtively glancing at the wizard’s hunched form sitting by Nott.

“I mean there’s only one thing to do,” Yasha said, with carefully maintained patience. “You’re going to talk to him.”

“You want me to talk to him?”

“I didn’t say that.” The woman said firmly, her pale face suddenly stony. “I said you’re _going_ to talk to him.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say?! ‘Hey! Sorry but I have amnesia, and I can’t remember the person I used to be, but the Other Me comes out sometimes, and he totally pawed your dick without your consent! But don’t worry, that’s not Me anymore, please love me.’”

“If that’s what you want to tell him,” Yasha answered mildly, “than yes, I’m sure you could say that to him.”

“I was jokin’, Yash.”

“Well I’m not,” she said, suddenly serious. “I mean look at you,” she gently brushed a stray lavender hair out of his face as her own softened. “You...care about this one! He’s important to you...and that’s...different than letting a stranger beat your dick with a riding crop. I think, if you do care, then you need to act like it, and put up with the...hard stuff...along with all the good things.”

Molly’s head thumped painfully against the bar, and this time his plaintive moan was something too close to genuine. The real emotion he rarely showed.

“Just go talk to him,” Yasha said softly, “apologize.”

“How the hell are you supposed to apologize for—whatever the fuck Lucien did—“ Molly groaned hopelessly. “You don’t just...brush off shit like that...”

“Well, you’ll never know if you can apologize, until you do.” Yasha reasoned, with unwanted good sense. “And that’s not something he can forgive, until you ask him to.”

Molly had nothing to say to that. She was right of course, he knew that, they both knew that. She was right, and Molly had nothing to say to prove her wrong. This fog of confusion and hurt had to get cleared up somehow, and if Caleb wasn’t going to speak up, that meant Molly had to. He was the one at fault anyway.

“I’m scared, Yash...” Molly whispered into the wooden bar. Maybe he was admitting it to himself.

Her only answer was to awkwardly pat his shoulder. Twice, as if she didn’t want to touch him. But by now Molly was well versed in Yasha Code, and he could feel the force of understanding and comfort, behind that small awkward gesture. As if she were saying “that’s ok.”

“Thank you.” He answered with a chuckle, reaching up to blindly pat her hand in return. “You really are a charm.”

“I don’t know why you keep calling me that.”

“‘Cause it’s true!”

After the brief moment of comfortable companionship together at the bar, returning to the atmosphere at the table, was like submerging oneself in cold water. Nott and Beau were eager to knock back their drinks, while everyone else silently followed suit. It felt like nails on a chalkboard, in comparison with their usual banter and casual offensive language.

But Molly was determined to stay and tough it out. He didn’t appear to be the only one either, if the long suffering stubbornness of everyone else was any indication. And it wasn’t so bad, after the first sting, as the ice began to thaw, and things felt more comfortable.

Caleb pulled out his book, in the usual way, delving into the pages. It was familiar, a welcome dose of normal, that nobody pointed out except for Beauregard. Who fondly punched Caleb in the shoulder, and seemed to consider that gesture the only sign of reconciliation needed. Mollymauk was almost certain he saw the wizard’s mouth twitch with a not-quite-smile, so she was probably correct.

Yasha brought out her greatsword, which drew nervous looks from the other bar patrons, but none of the Nein gave a flying fuck about that, and began carefully examining the blade for recent imperfections. Jester gleefully showed Nott several new rings she’d collected, and soon both women were huddled close and conspiratorial, as they argued in whispers about whether the gems were real or not. Molly’s hands itched to be doing something, so he devoted himself to irritating Fjord, with absolutely no observance of personal space, while he gave away a free card reading that the half orc hadn’t asked for.

It was nice, and nobody alluded to the disturbance that had come before.

So Mollymauk clung on stubbornly. As drinks were shared, and the camaraderie slowly re-built itself. While everyone else slowly dropped away from the table one by one, to get a drink, or go to bed, or do some shopping, the group at the table got smaller and smaller. The tiefling could feel his continued presence becoming more noticable, as if the Nein were catching the hint, and slowly trickling off just often enough to be inconspicuous. Around the table it was becoming quieter, and quieter, as members left one by one, and Molly still sat. Determined, and brittle, casting glances at the carefully absorbed Caleb.

Until it was just Yasha, and Molly, two best friends; sitting across from Nott, and Caleb, another pair of best friends. And the silence was tense with secrets, that everybody knew, and nobody was fucking saying.

“I’m going to take a walk.” Yasha said suddenly, pushing away from the table, and standing up.

“Doing your Yasha Thing?” Molly teased, with careful nonchalance.

“No,” she said with a gentle shake of the head, “I’ll be back.”

“I’m gonna get another drink.” Nott said, standing up at the same moment, after not so subtly draining her last tankard.

Gods they were both being terribly obvious.

“Be safe,” Caleb mumbled, awkwardly pulling his eyes away from his book, and giving the back of Nott’s cloak a tug. “Don’t drink too much, _ja_?”

“Be safe.” Nott said, replying to Caleb, but _looking_ at Molly. He could take the hint.

And then it was just the two of them alone, sitting face to face in unsettled silence. Caleb was still stubbornly absorbed in his book, but the tension in his shoulders, the nervous way he rubbed the pages between his fingers, those were unmistakable. The wizard wasn’t distracted in the slightest from the situation, or who he was sitting with, but he pretended to be. Molly couldn’t blame that, he more than understood why. It made the human feel safer.

So Molly obliged, and pretended too. Shuffling his tarot cards, as if there were nothing else on his mind. And the soft rustle of cards, though he hated to admit it, was unmistakably soothing. Until he gathered himself, straightened, and deliberately placed a card onto the table.

“The Red Horse.” Molly stated, tilting his head on one side thoughtfully, eyes dancing over the depicted blood red stallion rearing on a black hill. “A representative of fierce conflict, usually related to outside forces. You face an obstacle, or some sort of attack, that wounds you. This type of hostility can only be defeated through facing it, or the negative energy will continue to pursue you, meeting no resistance.”

The wizard was still looking at his book, and Molly wasn’t sure if that was meant to be taken as a good or bad sign. So he inwardly shrugged, and plucked another card from the deck, laying it delicately beside the first. This card depicted an old man, standing with legs spread apart, and a stack of tomes on either palm.

“Of course, I could have predicted this one.” Molly said, placing the card, upside down beside the horse. “The Librarian. A perfect fit for you. This card portrays a seeker after knowledge. It represents self reflection, meditation, and that still small voice at the center of yourself. But we can’t forget,” Molly gestured at the spread of cards, “this card has been inverted for you. Meaning its energy is directed outward. Instead of self reflection, you must seek revelation from outward forces. In this case, it is the world around you that has the answers. Speak your questions, and the world will grant you understanding.”

Caleb had stopped reading, hovering still and unmoving over his opened pages. But he was still protectively hunched within himself, offering no recognition of Molly’s words, as he fixedly stared at his book. It sent a sympathetic ache through Molly’s chest, and he leaned forward to murmur gently, “tell me, if you want me to stop.” And he pulled another card.

He smiled in spite of himself, as he lingered fondly over the card.

“The Moon,” he murmured with softness to his voice he couldn’t banish, and Caleb’s eyes followed Molly’s hand as he set the card down, finally engaging in his message. “This is a hopeful symbol: light in the dark, strength in weakness, understanding gained through pain. It cannot remove the evils of night, but promises illumination, in the midst of your darkest hour.”

Mollymauk leaned away from the cards to find that Caleb’s eyes had shifted, and now the icy blue intensity of them were fixed on his face. It was almost overpowering, something raw in the connection that made Molly feel vulnerable. Naked, and repentant, and sickeningly guilty all at once, as he was brought face to face with this beautifully broken man. It burned him to realized how deeply he ached to draw Caleb to him, pull the wizard close and never let him go, held loved and nurtured in the circle of protective arms.

He was royally fucked wasn’t he?

“The Prisoner.” Molly said, drawing the card blindly, without breaking eye contact. “Inverted.”

He set the depicted man behind bars next to the rest of the cards, but neither of them bothered to look at it, the thinly veiled pretense of the cards almost forgotten.

“A symbol of repentance,” Molly whispered, voice already catching, but he didn’t dare pull away from Caleb’s eyes, afraid the wizard wouldn’t accept his sincerity if he did. “The energy is remorseful, the woe of regretted wrongdoing. But it comes from outside yourself, an outward energy...someone close, who seeks your forgiveness...and says...that they’re sorry.”

The pressure of Caleb’s eyes broke away, dropping to trace over his cheeks and mouth. Which made Molly realize that he was weeping, a burn of tears that refused to be held in, and betrayed him.

“I’m so sorry—“ Molly rasped, voice flayed raw with unspoken emotion.

The wizard didn’t answer in words, but his eyes returned to Molly’s face, and the accusatory pressure behind them was gone. Shifting in his seat, he blindly dug into a pocket of his filthy coat. And drew out a crumpled piece of paper, that he hesitantly laid on the table between them, as if it were a peace offering he wasn’t certain Molly would accept. Feeling the burn of Caleb’s eyes watching his face, Molly glanced down at the paper, and felt a fracture run through his heart.

It was Jester’s invitation.

Her loving artwork was still intact, if a little wrinkled. But the careful depiction of their group, laughing and drinking, was unmistakable. Jester had drawn in large bubble letters, like a teenage girl’s distracted doodles in school, that said _Friends again? Pretty, pretty, please_. And running along the bottom were the curlicue shape of Jester’s signature, and Molly’s own untidy scrawl.

“Gods, my handwriting is awful.” Molly said.

Because he was a circus man, and quite simply, he didn’t know how to turn off the performance, and become sincere.

“I want to be friends,” Caleb croaked, his voice sounding strange after so much silence.

“With the group?” Molly couldn’t help but ask, the question rising in spite of himself. “Or...”

“ _Ja_ , with the group, and...” Caleb flushed slightly, cheeks turning a little pink, “and with you.”

Mollymauk firmly resisted the urge to coo over Caleb’s blush as if he were an adorable little kitten, as Jester would have done. But he was melting inside anyway. Gods Caleb was so fucking sweet. And once again, Molly couldn’t have denied to anyone, even himself, that he was completely fucked.

Instead Molly only smiled gently, tilted his head on one side, and said, “am I different than the rest of the group? To you.”

“That is—I don’t—I don’t know...” Caleb stammered, shrinking a little in his seat.

And Molly could tell, he was going to have to change tactics, if he wanted this conversation to continue. Caleb was an extremely reserved man, stubbornly closed and withdrawn. Like a clam hiding pearls, Caleb was careful with his thoughts, careful with his feelings. Most people would have expected Molly to find that a foreign concept, but truthfully for as boisterous as he was and open as he appeared, Molly was the kind of man that was almost never sincere in anything. So really, he understood better than most.

The only way to make Caleb show his weakness, was to earn it by showing your own first.

“I don’t mind,” he said offhandedly, as if it were a simple thing. “I think you’re different than the rest of the group for me too. I don’t feel the same about you.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Caleb mumbled hesitantly, obviously still tempted to withdraw, but not acting on the impulse yet.

Molly offered Caleb a shit eating grin, carelessly pillowing his head on one hand, as his tail coiled. The arrow tip delicately flicked a card from the deck, sending it spinning forward to land face down on the table, and Molly reached out with his free hand to reveal it. The image of two ambiguously gendered people, standing in mirror image of each other, with their foreheads, palms, and hips pressed together. One was illuminated by the rayed sun, the other by a crescent moon, and along the bottom margin of the card was written its name. The Lovers.

Caleb looked down to follow Molly’s hand, and the tiefling could watch as the connection formed. First confusion, a slightly puzzled crease forming between his brows, and then a quick succession of many emotions passing behind his eyes all at once, that Molly tracked like a hawk. Surprise, gratification, then suspicion turning into fear, or more accurately fear mixed with pain. Then Caleb looked at him, searchingly, as if hunting for a lie. And that hurt, to have Caleb look at him, with so much distrust behind his eyes. But it was only because of that moment’s straightforward connection that Molly caught the last piece of Caleb’s emotional puzzle, fleeting and easy to miss, as it passed through his blue eyes like a breeze.

A flicker of _longing_.

“Why d’ya think I asked to kiss you, darling boy?” Molly crooned gently, the prankish smile softening into something genuine that surprised even himself.

“Because you were bored,” Caleb shot back immediately, “and drunk.”

Damn, it was sad to see how sure Caleb was in giving his answer. Obviously convinced of it’s truth.

“I was horny too.” Molly added lazily, unable to miss the flash of vindication and some more complicated pain, that passed through Caleb’s face at his words. But the tiefling continued, quick to contradict both. “Don’t sell me short though, sugar. I’m unapologetically a slut, because I’m young, and I like sex with pretty people. But I’m not a slut with my heart.”

Caleb leaned backwards, as Molly leaned forward, backed into a metaphorical corner as the tiefling crowded his personal space. But, though his hands were white knuckled around his spellbook, and his breath was coming rapid and shallow, he had yet to actually Run. And there was nothing in his eyes that made Molly think the wizard wanted to.

“And I don’t kiss without my heart.” Molly finished, letting the walls drop, as his voice turned velvet and earnest. “Understand?”

“ _Nein_ ,” Caleb denied, shaking his head, “you don’t care about me.”

“I’m telling you I do.”

“No you don’t.” And there was something choked, something tortured, behind Caleb’s words now.

“It’s nobody’s business but my own, to decide who I care about,” Molly said, watching Caleb’s struggle with a sliver of pain through his chest. “And I’ve decided I care about you, baby boy.”

“You _can’t_.” Caleb was almost pleading now, the stubborn denial of a child, trying to ignore the existence of the monster under their bed. “No one should.”

“You said _should_ that time.” Molly said, catching his weakness as soon as it appeared. “That’s a different thing altogether than don’t or can’t. I can accept _should_ , but frankly dearest, I’ve never given a fuck about what I should do.”

He ducked his head, trying to catch Caleb’s downcast eyes, and reaching up to nudge an unruly bit of hair out of the way. The touch made Caleb’s eyes startle up, meeting Molly’s, and the tiefling could feel himself softening.

“Just want to give you fair warning darling,” he murmured gently. “I care about you. Not because you’re pretty, and not because I’m horny, and definitely not because I’m bored. I think you’re worth it, and you can’t change my mind, and you can’t really stop me.”

“ _Nein_ ,” Caleb rasped, voice barely more than a ruined whisper.

“I care,” Molly said, heart already heavy with the knowledge that there were no magic words that could convince the wizard. “Because obviously some one should. And I’m just waitin’ to see if you’ll care about me back.”

Caleb flinched, the subtle fear and pain coming back into his eyes. And that made Molly’s chest ache, but he knew, there was nothing he could do.

“I’ll wait,” he said carefully, determined to make himself perfectly clear. “If you don’t ever end up caring about me, I’ll keep to myself, that’s fine...but I do want to know: one way or the other...”

And he forced himself to quietly gather up the scattered spread of cards, cast the wizard one last smile, and carelessly saunter away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not really sure if Molly’s feelings would be considered a crush, or something more than that? But either way, he’s definitely aware of emotions in himself that Caleb has yet to feel/recognize/accept.


	6. What You Have, What You Owe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It is not enough to be dumbstruck. Can you fill this silence? You must have the words in that head of yours. And oh oh, can you feel this silence? I can't take it anymore._
> 
> _Cause it is not enough to be dumbstruck. Can you fill this silence?_
> 
> [The Silence](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=8VNpQWNe5f4), by Bastille.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're gonna get somewhere with this, I promise. It’s just gonna take a hot second. I’ll have another chapter coming along soon though, so there’s that.

This should be familiar by now. But it wasn’t. It was fucking terrifying.

The blood, and heat, so close Molly couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. The haze of pain a constant, swelling, bursting, raging fire in his bones. The noise and confusion that should be deafening, but was blocked out by the ringing sound in his own ears.

It still fucking sucked.

Fjord had already been down once, only saved by the skin of his teeth through the resilience of whatever orcish blood made his skin green. The rest of them weren’t in much better shape either, in fact every single caster in their ragtag group were having a horrible day. Apparently fighting dark elves with more than half a brain, and an organized structure, meant trouble. Because they’d been consistently targeting everyone that could do magic.

Nott had a split lip, and what would probably become a truly impressive shiner on her left eye. If she lived that long, Molly pessimistically reflected. Caleb looked bloody, as well as muddy, and was cursing over the fourth spell that had fizzled on him. Jester’s skintone was a pale powder blue, with sunken eyes, and a web of black poisonous veins throbbing in the side of her neck from some truly awful poison she couldn’t shake.

Molly would have helped her with that, but he was hanging by the edge himself, and he couldn’t spare the blood he’d need for it.

He could always tell when the thread was about to snap on him. Maybe it was the fucked up shit he could do, or some sixth sense, or maybe the experience of having already been dead once. But he could tell when the blackness, hanging on the other side of one false step, was just inches away. Like a hum of static electricity just out of earshot, that made his hair stand on end. It was energy that sang to him, like a haunting siren, both terrifying and powerful.

The Somewhere In Between.

And then he heard Caleb scream. A desperate plea for help, going high pitched, and cracked. Pinned up against the wall, hands empty, spell destroyed, with no time to conjure another miracle. As one of the bastards cornered him, already grinning, honed in for the kill.

The boy wouldn’t survive it.

But Molly wouldn’t either, if he did something. The balance was hanging by a thread, the door hidden behind a curtain. The blackness staved off by a mere drop or two of blood.

Caleb wouldn’t survive.

Molly couldn’t accept that.

So the only logical choice was to stop it.

The blood practically _sang_ as Molly released it. The Blackness of the song, and the song of the Blood. A wild, and surging, and powerful rush of freedom. Drawn from the edge, the pain, the heat. The wefting, twisting, dancing weave of Death by blood and Blood by death.

“ _Mine_.” Molly screamed with harsh, devious Infernal, clenching his fist around the blood that flowed down his wrist, and dripped through his fingers.

 _Touch my boy,_ Molly thought as the world tipped beneath him, _and I’ll roast your eyeballs, until you never see again_.

The door was open now, and the blackness was crawling in. A haze encroaching on the edge of his vision, a silence stronger than the way his ears were ringing, weightless where before he’d been falling. It was terrifying. Having nothing, being nothing, facing nothing. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. From the grave you crawled Mollymauk Tealeaf, and to the Grave you will return again.

 _He’s mine_. Molly’s mind whispered, oblivious to it all. _Mine_. _Mine_... _mine_...

<><><>

 _Mine_.

Pain. Ache. Cold.

 _Caleb_...

“Don’t be a baybee—“

That was Jester’s voice.

“—was really fucking stupid, Dibshit.”

Definitely Beau.

“Common’ everyone, give Jester some space.”

Fjord, always the Dad...

 _How_ _the_ _hell_ _do_ _eyeballs_ _work_ _again_...

Ow. Fuck. Ok, light hurt. A lot. Somebody whined, close by, and sullen. Now his head was throbbing really really bad.

“Here, he’s gonna start fighting you, I should hold him...”

Yasha. He wanted to see her. Where the fuck was she—

“ _Nein_ —“

 _Caleb_.

Red. Molly frowned confusedly. Why could he see red? Red and blue. Red, blue, something soft trailing across his face. Then something warm, wet, against his cheek, and a sob.

 _Caleb’s_ _crying_.

And then reality clicked back into place. His were eyes stinging, his head was killing him, and Caleb’s rusty colored hair was tickling his face. Along with the piercing blue of Caleb’s eyes, swimming behind tears, that Molly absently reached up to wipe away. That just made more tears though.

“Hello, dearest,” Molly croaked. And he’d been trying for something lighthearted, but his voice sounded awful, like sand in his throat, and the effort ended up more pitiful than he’d meant it to be.

“Hallo...“ Caleb sounded just as awful, making Molly’s thoughts tangle around an additional level of concern. “That was very stupid of you, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

“Well,” Molly said, twitching his shoulders dismissively. Then he pushed himself up into Caleb’s face, an effort that informed him his muscles felt like frayed string pulled too tight, and mumbled in the wizard’s ear, “I said I cared didn’t I?”

Caleb was crying.

Molly could feel it against his shoulder. The frailty running through Caleb’s frame, like a thing made of clay, about to crumble into dust.

“Hey!” Nott’s shrill raspy voice cut through the air, “come an’ look guys! This one’s got three hundred Platinum just sittin’ in his pocket!!! We’re gonna be rich!”

Everyone eagerly crowded around the dead body Nott was talking about, leaving Molly and Caleb on their own. For a moment it seemed like Caleb was going to follow them, but when he tried to disengage himself, Molly growled sullenly and he relented. Tiredly slumped against the wall, Molly cuddled himself into the wizard, and the two sat in silence as the party divided up their winnings.

<><><>

“Hey.” Beau’s voice said, jerking Caleb out of his trance, “earth to Caleb? Yeah, I’m talking to you, shithead.”

“ _Ja_...” Caleb said mechanically, mind pulling free of disassociation like a string pulled through molasses. “ _Ja_ , I am fine.”

“Didn’t ask how you were.”

Confusedly he glanced around at their surroundings. His Dancing Lights had been strung out to provide illumination for the entire group as they hiked in a line like something from an adventure novel, and their soft glow lit up partial surfaces of cavern wall or dipping stalagmites. As they moved the walls seemed to jump out and then fade away again, as the uneven texture of the cavern closed and then receded, making him think of restless ghosts arriving in the material world to see what was happening to the living. They’d been trudging back upwards toward the surface for hours, following the thieves cant that Nott had scratched on the walls, even though there was nobody to understand the writing except herself.

“What do you want, Beauregard?”

“I just think I’ve got some stuff to say to you.”

Beau probably didn’t mean for that to sound as threatening as it did. But unfortunately it sounded exactly like an intimidation tactic, and it was working.

“Ok,” Caleb said apprehensively, “I am listening.”

“You need to talk to Molly.”

“No longer listening.”

“Oh fuck off, you know I’m right,” Beau grouched, punching his arm to prove her point.

“Ow.”

“You deserve it.”

For several moments they trudged along in silence. Moodily Caleb chewed on his tongue, ruminating over the words trapped at the back of his throat, none of which he would ever work up the courage to say. She was right: he did know that she was right. He knew, that she knew, that he knew, that she was right...or something like that...

“Maybe I do...” he muttered.

“‘Maybe you do ‘Deserve It’, or ‘Maybe you do Need To Talk’?” Beau asked.

Caleb frowned at her in a way that said louder than words, ‘Beau, what the fuck.’

“Sorry, yeah, sorry, I’m making it complicated arent’ I?”

“ _Ja_ , I do not remember what we are supposed to be talking about.”

“Yes you do,” Beau flat out contradicted, “we’re talking about Molly.”

“Of course,” he mumbled, staring at his feet, “silly me.”

“You’re in Deep Shit,” Beau said with intimidating emphasis, “like, Fucking Serious Fucking Shit.”

“Do you always emphasize statements by how many Fucks you add to them...”

“He was ready to sacrifice his life for you, dude,” Beau continued, brushing past Caleb’s (admittedly weak) defensive humor. “Like, you realize he just about got himself killed there, just so he could blind the fucker attacking you, right? That has sunk into your brain.”

“I am well aware, Beau.”

“That’s like ‘You’re the One, I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, and die holding hands’ type Shit.”

Caleb didn’t answer. For several long seconds it seemed as if that would be it. Beau’s stubbornness at a standstill against Caleb’s almost religious effort to avoid speaking about himself, so that they were left at stalemate, neither side making progress.

“You’re scared.” Beau declared with disheartening certainty.

Sometimes it was really hard to distinguish whether Beau really was that insightful, or just fucking lucky.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I totally get it,” Beau said defensively. “Real shit is scary to talk about but...I mean, you really gotta face this...”

“He said he would wait for me to think,” Caleb argued weakly. He couldn’t even make himself raise his voice above a mumble.

“Well yeah, ‘cause he’s fucking head over heels for you.” Beau said, either not noticing or willfully ignorant of the way Caleb shook his head disbelievingly. “He’s just stupid enough to say stuff like that and mean it. But, real talk: you owe it to him to get off your ass.”

Stubbornly Caleb hunched his shoulders, already aware that it wouldn’t be enough to truly curb Beau’s opinions.

“I’m not saying you’ve gotta magically make yourself fall in love, to keep him happy.” Beau said, “but you can’t just hide forever. You’ve gotta tell him what you think, even if it hurts him. Even if it hurts you.”

“That is...hard for me...”

“It’s hard for everybody, bro.”

“Including you,” Caleb shot back. “I don’t see you taking your own advise.”

He nodded in Yasha’s direction, and Beau’s eyes followed his gesture. As soon as she did, her face darkened.

“That’s different.”

“ _Nein_ , I don’t think it is.”

“I can’t exactly walk up the sexiest woman on earth, and tell her that I have wet dreams about her ripped fucking muscles. That’s creepy.”

“I mean...you could...”

“Fuck off,” Beau bitched, whacking his arm again. Caleb belatedly reflected that it would probably bruise. “Shows what I get for trying to help you. Therapy’s bullshit. I’m fucking done.”

Caleb grinned and weakly punched her arm. She didn’t even react.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, and as a personal disclaimer: THERAPY IS NOT BULLSHIT. EVERYONE PLEASE GO GET THERAPY. 
> 
> (Personally I feel that absolutely everyone could use a little help with their emotions).


	7. What the Little Bird Sees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When all of your flaws and all of my flaws, are laid out one by one, the wonderful part of the mess that we made. We pick ourselves undone._
> 
> _All of your flaws and all of my flaws, they lie there hand in hand. Ones we've inherited, ones that we learned. They pass from man to man_
> 
> [Flaws](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=nwHu58Qfd2M), by Bastille.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye! I said that new chapter was coming along soon! I had it almost finished, when I posted the last one, and a little weekend freetime means a little weekend writing time.

Caleb had stubbornly demanded that he take watch with Molly, instead of his usual shift with Nott, and now here they were, sitting shoulder to shoulder on a log in the woods outside the cave they’d been invading. Silence, and too many unspoken secrets hanging between them.

“I assume you wanted to talk then—“ Molly began.

But Caleb only interrupted him with a savage “shhh” and didn’t say anything else. That was fair, Molly supposed. Then he felt the hesitant warmth of Caleb’s hand pushing into his, stealthy and wordless, as if he didn’t want it to be acknowledged. Molly smiled in the dark, pretending not to notice the blush crawling up Caleb’s neck where he had his face turned away, and let their fingers lace together. So they sat in silence, for several minutes, surrounded by the dark trees growing darker.

“I...am very stupid...” Caleb declared haltingly after a long interval of silence.

“How so, dear?” Molly hummed affectionately, but Caleb went on without acknowledging him.

“I mean...you were just...being you. But I was...” he shook his head, “stupid...stupid...”

“I dunno if I like hearin’ my boy call himself stupid.” Molly teased lightly, voice a carefree veil over the genuine pain he smothered.

Silence answered him, as Caleb stared mutely at the dirt. So Molly mentally settled himself, prepared to wait, while Caleb’s thoughts percolated into something that resembled words.

“No mistakes twice.” Caleb mumbled.

Molly’s patient waiting had lasted nearly five minutes. The wizard was speaking so quietly he could have been talking to himself. But he tilted his body as he spoke, into Molly’s space. Into a stilted half conversation with himself, that Molly was apparently being invited to listen to.

“That is the rule. Different mistakes: _ja_ , those are _gut_. Chances to learn. But not twice.” His hand suddenly gripped hard around Molly’s, and his voice turned venomous. “That is just stupid.”

It felt strange to be silent, but it was what Caleb needed him to be. So the tiefling only pulled Caleb’s hand close enough that he could trail the talons of his free hand lightly over the back of Caleb’s, where it was gripping him. And do what he never did: say nothing.

“So, I am stupid,” Caleb said, finally speaking fully to the tiefling stroking his hand. “I almost made the same mistake twice.”

Caleb fell silent, and Molly did what he never did...he waited...

“I think...I do care...” Caleb whispered to the woods, and the dark, and a living dead man who greedily guarded the words. “I...have for a long time...”

He sounded hesitant, anxious, and that little bit hopeful. As if he was waiting for the words to shatter like broken glass if he said them, but they held firm instead.

It was Molly squeezing Caleb’s hand in a vice now.

“I never...” Caleb’s voice snagged for a moment, and when it pulled free of throat it was frayed and aching. “I didn’t tell my _mutter_ and _vater_ that I loved them, so much. Too busy. I didn’t...never thought to say. And now...I wish...that was a mistake, because now I wish I could.”

A human’s sob, broken, and hastily smothered, fell in the woods. Where the trees hushed, and there was only one to hear.

“So when you...did what you always do...I thought—“ for a moment Caleb’s voice vanished, and Molly could tell he was struggling not to let out another sob. Even though nobody was there to condemn it. “What if you ended up like them? Gone away, before I can say that I care...I almost didn’t say...”

He was too worked up to talk anymore. And Molly didn’t mind. He didn’t mind when Caleb’s voice died, or when the wizard suddenly leaned hard into his shoulder, and let out an aching whine into his brightly colored coat. The tiefling just hummed, and let his fingers run through Caleb’s hair.

“You said it now.” Molly said, cupping the base of the wizard’s neck.

“I did,” Caleb said, almost urgently, as if it burned him to hold the words in. “I care. I care for you, and, not just to be friends.” He flushed again, and buried the rest of his words into Molly’s coat. “I want...you’re...I care more than that...”

Molly laughed. Something warm, and fond, and gentler than his usual mad cackle of mischief. “Well that makes two of us, darling.”

“ _Ja_?”

“Oh yes.”

“Alright.” Caleb said, awkward and mechanical.

“Why?” Molly said, voice tight with sympathy. “Did that surprise you?”

“A little,” Caleb said guiltily.

“Sweetie, I said I don’t kiss without my heart.”

“I didn’t think you—” Caleb stammered. “I ruined it.”

“What—darling don’t—Listen to me, I don’t ever want to hear you say you ‘ruined anything’ ever again.” Molly said with savage earnestness.

“Oh,” Caleb said, shrinking up small and guilty under Molly’s emphasis. “Sorry.”

“No—“ Molly said, feeling a wave of remorse wash over him, as he mentally berated himself. He couldn’t talk so carelessly like that with Caleb. “That’s not what I mean. Don’t apologize. I’m the one who should.”

“You weren’t doing anything wrong though...I liked it...” Caleb said, blushing over the admission. Then his face fell, and he thumped the side of his head, “I just was...my stupid shit got in the way.”

“First off, your Trauma, or whatever you were feeling isn’t stupid.” Molly said, “second off: I pushed you when I shouldn’t have, and I’m the one who apologized. And third, I don’t want you to just hide away whatever you were feeling, and try to forget about what happened.”

Caleb shivered, and folded into himself, hunching up protectively.

“I want to know what upset you,” Molly said gently, “so I don’t hurt you again.”

The wizard only shook his head mutely.

“Caleb?”

“I don’t...I can’t talk about...” He shuddered and shook his head again, adding in a small conciliatory voice, “can I tell you when I’m ready?”

“Of course, dearest,” Molly said sadly.

Gods, he hated that Caleb felt like he had to _ask_.

Caleb nodded carefully. Looking at the wizard’s face, Molly still wasn’t sure the boy understood, but he pushed the concern away. They would work on it.

“What I do want,” he said, carefully calm and free of judgment, “right now, and from now on always, is for you to tell me when you’re uncomfortable. I want to know what you want, and don’t want.”

“Ok.”

“Always. Even if you think I won’t like to hear it.”

“I’ll try.”

“That’s a good boy.”

<><><>

They were simple words: _good_ _boy_ , but Caleb resisted the urge to squirm when Molly said them. Not from discomfort, but a warm slide of something pleasant that tingled down his spine. It felt unbelievably good to hear that. Good, and sweet, and guilty. He hunched his shoulders and scolded himself for being self centered.

“Caleb...” Molly said, in a flirtatious singsong, and a moment later the clawed point of the tiefling’s forefinger dipped under his chin, and forced him to meet Molly’s blood red gaze. “What did I say? Whatever you want, or whatever you don’t want, no matter what.”

A bubble of fear rose to the surface, making Caleb want to shrink away from how perceptive Molly was. Then Molly leaned closer, only a few inches, but his breath was on Caleb’s cheek, and the heat was more than enough to pop the bubble harmlessly. This devil man was turning him soft as butter.

“Now,” Molly prompted, “are we good here?”

It was difficult to nod against the pointed pressure of Molly’s finger holding him in place, but Caleb gave it a try.

“I want words, darling.”

For a moment that left Caleb grasping blindly. He wasn’t good at this. He was awkward, and tongue tied, and he never knew what to say...and then the spiraling thoughts were interrupted, as Molly removed the finger under Caleb’s chin, and laid his palm to Caleb’s cheek.

“I’ll tell you what to say,” he murmured, and the unsettling crimson of his eyes shouldn’t have been as comforting as Caleb found them. “When you’re comfortable, I want you to say Green. If you ever want to pause, or talk about something, or you’re not feeling ready, tell me Yellow. Then if you ever—and this one is very important, so don’t forget it—if you ever feel trapped, or like you’re going to panic, or something is deeply deeply wrong that you need to stop right away, you say Red. Always. Even if you think I won’t like it, you say Red. That way I’ll know when you want to stop, and we’ll talk about why you got to Red. Understand me, sweet?”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb affirmed hesitantly.

“Thats right,” Molly hummed, “now tell me dear, how are you feeling?”

“Good.” Caleb said. But Molly hummed, and didn’t answer, which made Caleb shrink in confusion before he suddenly understood. “Green. Sorry, green.”

“There we go,” the tiefling cooed with a grin. “That’s my good boy.”

Caleb shivered around another wash of Nice down his back. It felt like loosing weight, suddenly getting lighter with the pleasant sensation of being affirmed. He liked doing what Molly wanted. It should frighten him. He should be defending himself, all the alarm bells of old and familiar manipulations going off in his head.

But instead he found himself staring at Molly’s mouth, wanting him to say the words again.

The mouth tilted. It was smirking, easily, pleasantly, and just a little bit smug. Mollymauk had a mouth made for smirking. Caleb liked when Molly smirked. He liked most things about Molly’s mouth in general, the look of it, the words that came out of it, the soft heat of it; but he liked when Molly smiled with it. Trent never smiled.

“You look like you want something Caleb,” Mollymauk purred.

The sound of Molly’s voice made Caleb realize that he was still starring at the tiefling’s mouth, and he jerked his eyes up to Molly’s with a start. The crimson heat of them looked like they were glowing, and now the tilt of his smirk was unmistakably suggestive. Those eyes made Caleb feel naked, but surprisingly part of him didn’t find it in the least unpleasant.

“Why don’t you tell me what you were wanting?” Molly prodded, still smirking. “It’ll be good practice.”

A thousand things passed through Caleb’s mind all at once, making him feel dizzy. He wanted everything, but with the carefully hidden desires, were a stream of negative opposites. He wanted Molly’s mouth, Molly’s hands, Molly’s voice. But admitting all the filthy things he dreamed made him want to vomit. He wanted Molly closer, but the idea of being vulnerable made him want to run and hide. He wanted Molly to call him a good boy, wanted to be praised. He wanted to be good enough, but knew he never could be.

“Caleb,” Molly’s voice sweetened to a singsong again.

“I—I want you to kiss me—“ he stammered, voicing the first respectable desire he could think of. But tame as the request was, it still made him shrivel with guilt as soon as he’d said it.

Then Molly’s lips, soft, still too warm for most humanoids, pressed into his forehead. It made him think of the gnoll mine, and Molly must have felt the same, because he lingered over the spot for several moments. Caleb shifted in his seat, and Molly obligingly drifted away. The tiefling pressed another kiss to Caleb’s cheek this time, tender, affectionate, and still not good enough. It was making Caleb turn stiff, brittle and wooden to keep himself from fidgeting. Then Molly’s mouth met the skin on Caleb’s cheek less than an inch from where Caleb’s mouth was, his too warm lips opening, and the metal stud of his tongue pressed against Caleb’s skin. It made Caleb whine, unable to stay quiet, and try to press sideways into the flickering heat of Molly’s clever tongue. But Molly was out of reach before Caleb could gather himself enough to think.

“You seem to have meant something more, when you wanted me to kiss you?” Molly questioned teasingly. Of course he already knew the answer.

“Molly—“ Caleb breathed, almost a whine, but he restrained it just in time.

“Dear me, where on earth were you wanting these cherry lips of mine...”

“Please...”

“Word, my boy,” Molly invited, “ I have to hear them.”

“I...” Caleb struggled, words dying in his throat. But the tension of his need was becoming more pressing than his respectability, and he gave in. “I wanted you...to kiss me on the mouth...”

“Wish granted, darling.” Molly purred.

The brush of his lips was so soft that Caleb could barely feel it, and Caleb was ashamed to admit that he tried to chase. But Molly only pulled back enough to let his mouth nuzzle Caleb’s just out of reach, the heat of his breath and half realized touches of skin all Caleb could find.

“Color?” Molly breathed against his mouth.

Oh right. The colors. Caleb had forgotten about them, and now he categorized them all in his mind again. Molly was testing him, testing them, seeing whether they worked.

“Green.” He hissed. There was no ambiguity in his mind about that one’s use.

Like a reward, Molly pressed in closer. Finally some pressure, real solid texture of soft skin and lips, undulating against Caleb’s like a dance he couldn’t discover the steps to. But still stubbornly out of reach. Caleb couldn’t get his tongue into Molly’s mouth, catching no more than a brush of lips, before Molly was maddeningly out of reach. It was intensely frustrating.

“Color?” Molly prompted again.

He caught Caleb’s lower lip immediately after, letting it carefully tug out between his sharpened teeth. It was a shock of pressure, and the almost pain of pointed canines, that made Caleb shudder with closely mingled pleasure and desire. The clench of need ratcheting impossibly tighter than Caleb had thought it could be.

“Green—“ Caleb gasped, voice thready and desperate, “Green—molly, please—“

Molly interrupted before he could finish. A hand drawing him in, as the tiefling finally gave his mouth. The raging heat of Molly’s tongue was in his mouth before he could think about it, still just as good as before. But Caleb was getting bolder this time, and sucked around Molly’s tongue as it darted away from him. It made the tiefling moan, an undeniably sexual sound, and he opened eagerly as soon as Caleb made a hesitant effort to push farther.

Molly was clearly enjoying the kiss, maybe even getting hard. Caleb couldn’t tell, but the tiefling had gotten erect last time they kissed too. Which made Caleb remember the last time, and he felt a flutter of nerves through his stomach.

What if Molly wanted to push again.

If he was hard, it was only logical that he would want more, that Caleb couldn’t give. He’d given Caleb a way out, a magic word to stop everything, but it couldn’t be that easy. If Molly was enjoying himself, why would he ever feel like stoping?

So Caleb decided to test. Before there was any greater risk to Red not working the way it should. When they were still only kissing, and it was still easy, and he could say stop before he actually needed to.

“Red—“ he choked out, convinced that Molly wouldn’t keep his word.

But Molly’s lips vanished, so quickly it left Caleb dizzy.

“Sorry,” the tiefling gasped, and he sounded so genuine it made Caleb feel guilty for pushing him away. “I didn’t—sorry. Are you—I mean—what do you need?”

“No, I am good...” Caleb stammered, flushing with shame. “I just...I wanted to, you know...I wasn’t sure you would do it.”

It sounded so much more offensive when he said it out loud, admitting that he didn’t think Molly was good enough. For a moment Molly was silent, and Caleb coiled up fearfully with the knowledge that he’d ruined everything. He’d fucked up. He’d just insulted Molly openly to his face. Stupid. Insensitive. Failure.

“I’m sorry—“ He rasped, beginning to pull away.

“Oh baby, no,” Molly crooned, grabbing Caleb’s arm. His hand ran through Caleb’s hair, soft and soothing, making Caleb inadvertently lean into the sensation. “I don’t mind. If that’s what you needed, I don’t care a bit.”

“But you weren’t doing anything wrong...” he mumbled.

“If you aren’t absolutely certain that I’m going to Stop,” Molly replied gently, “that means you aren’t ready to Start.”

There was a convoluted kind of sense in that.

“I do still want to kiss you though,” Caleb admitted.

“Com’ere, we’ve done enough for tonight,” Molly said, pulling Caleb in to rest his head on the tiefling’s shoulder. “We’ll try again later...”

<><><>

“So are you two like...forever in Looooove now?!?” Jester gushed the next morning, hands nestled under her chin, her tail flicking playfully. Molly could practically see the romanticized hearts in her eyes.

“Now whatever would give you that idea?” Her fellow tiefling brushed off coyly.

“Oh, you know,” she cooed, “no reason...I just think a little bird overheard you two ‘making up’ last night...”

The heavy air quotes around the phrase ‘making up’ would have made poor Caleb blush the color of a tomato. But fortunately he was absorbed in his daily spell review, and Jester was dealing with the far more shameless Mollymauk.

“Is that so Jessie?” The tiefling man said carelessly. “Was this a little Blue Bird maybe?”

“Yeeeeees...”

“And I assume it enjoyed the show?”

“I wasn’t _trying_ to be creepy, I was just hyper, and I couldn’t sleep,” Jester said defensively. “And also I’m really good at knowing when people are... _kissing_...”

“No, no, I consider a bit of innocent voyeurism as fair and above board.” Molly stated carelessly. “As long as you keep Caleb clueless. He’s less experienced in the exotics, so we must forgive him the discomfort.”

“Of course I’m not going to say anything. That would be dumb.” Jester burst out with juvenile disgust, her freckled button nose wrinkling. “I just talked to you, because you’re weird.”

“Thank you.” Molly replied, as if the acknowledgment of his strangeness was a given, that would have offended him if no one pointed it out.

“I just thought it looked fun.” Jester said, her face suddenly softening, and she looked for a moment startlingly genuine.

“Just between friends, I want to know,” Molly said, leaning conspiratorially into Jester’s space. He glanced over to let his eyes linger on Caleb, and his question came out more genuine than he’d been intending. “How did he look?”

“Oh gosh.” Jester bubbled out her cheeks, crossing her eyes. “Like. Really good. Like, you don’t even know. He was pretty hot.”

Molly purred suggestively, still watching Caleb over his books. Jester also turned her eyes, her tail whipping playfully, as she pillowed her chin on her arms like a girl at a sleepover. Caleb puttered obliviously in his spellbook, completely unaware of the two lecherous stares that were fixed on his person, as he bent close enough over his parchment for his hair to brush the page.

“Little bit boyish?” Molly speculated, glancing at Jester in his periphery for confirmation. “Sexual without meanin’ to be?”

“Oh tooootally.” Jester agreed. “Innocent, but kinda like, ready to be ruined, you know?”

“Perfect...”

“He was pretty great, but like...you were too?”

“I look good in charge?”

“I guess,” she said, “but I don’t think you should get used to it?”

“How’d you mean?”

“Oh come on, you saw him! Well...I guess you didn’t really, since you’re asking me about it, but...” a little wicked grin, that Molly had come to associate with imminent high-jinx, flashed across Jester’s face. “I’m calling it right now. He’s going to eat you alive as soon as he figures out how all this stuff works.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws confetti over my disaster boys kissing*


	8. Stolen Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This is nonstop baby. You've got me going crazy. You're heavier than I knew._   
>  _But I don't want no other, you're my cameo lover, only here for a moment or two. You stay inside that bubble, with all of your trouble in your black hole. You turn from the skies, you dance with your demise._
> 
> _I’ll be here when you come home._
> 
> [Cameo Lover](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=qiv9nQ-KV-0), by Kimbra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear god, I did not mean for this fic to have so much damn kissing in it. That said, its pretty much all the spicy action that’s happened so far. 
> 
> So here’s...ya know...who woulda guessed...moar kissing!!!

Caleb sounded beautiful when they kissed.

Everything about him in general was beautiful, enough to make Molly feel blinded. But in the heat, the intimacy, those few stolen moments when Molly pushed and the wizard forgot himself. At those times Caleb was truly radiant.

And never more so than at this moment, when Molly had him propped up against a wall in some alleyway, only a few feet away from unconscious civilization.

“Mol—“ Caleb gasped, voice a little muffled and slurred against the tiefling’s mouth, “—Molly—“

“Mmm...” the lavender tiefling hummed distractedly, tilting his head to get a better angle.

“Mollymauk.” This time Caleb nudged away, avoiding Molly’s advances, which forced the tiefling to back off slightly.

“What seems to be the problem, dear?” Mollymauk purred, dragging the faint edges of his teeth over Caleb’s neck instead, since the human’s mouth was stubbornly out of reach. He was gratified to feel Caleb’s pulse jump in response.

“Aren’t you—“ Caleb stammered, voice definitely choked with whatever sensation Molly’s teeth on his throat were causing. “—what about the people...”

“How are they an issue darling?”

“Someone could see...”

“Well...and what’s wrong with that...” Molly brushed off, soothing the reddened skin where he’d been biting with little flickering tastes of his tongue that made Caleb imperceptibly jump every time. “All they’ll see is two very pretty boys kissing in a back alley...who wouldn’t want to catch a look at that...”

“You are very humble _Herr_ Tealeaf.”

Molly loved when Caleb called him that.

“No shame in recognizing how sexy you are,” the lavender tiefling said with a smirk, and he pulled back to meet Caleb’s eyes, and lick his lips. “You seem to find me quite attractive anyhow...”

Caleb’s eyes followed the flicker of Molly’s tongue, which was all the answer he needed.

“Molly—“ the wizard protested again, as Molly tried to press into his space, the rest of his words disappearing into a heated exchange with the tiefling’s mouth.

“No one will see anything if we’re quick,” Molly growled against Caleb’s lips.

“We’ve already taken seven minutes—“

But by that time Molly didn’t really care. He was distracted. And it was easy as breathing to slip his tongue into Caleb’s mouth, and beguile the protesting wizard into dancing. He’d learned that Caleb, particularly when Molly wore his piercing, was weak to the tiefling’s tongue.

He’d learned a lot of things about Caleb really, and not just the useful tidbit with his tongue. Every stolen kiss, and absentminded physical affection was an opportunity to learn, and Molly was categorizing the results as carefully as Caleb would count coins. The little tells, and subtle nuances were essential in reading Caleb. With a human so different from tiefling mannerisms (no tail to indicate mood for one), and actively camouflaging his emotions for another, it was no easy task to parse out what the wizard was feeling.

But with effort, Molly was making progress.

Mostly he’d found success relying on the senses other than sight. Somehow in his lifetime, Caleb had learned how to mask himself completely, hiding everything under layers and layers of surface that surrounded him like a shield. It was a wall of emotionless distance that only crumbled under extreme circumstances, and he maintained perfect restraint the rest of the time. So Molly had turned to more subtle guides.

That was the key to it really. Listening to the silence, all the things that weren’t outright said.

One of the best guides was always Caleb’s breathing. It was one of his more obvious tells, that he either had yet to discover and stifle in himself, or knew about but couldn’t control. That was Molly’s tip for anyone studying Caleb: keep tabs on his breathing. When the rhythm went short, out of sync, and almost befuddled, that was a screaming danger sign. The first and last indication of old pains and fears, carefully smothered, but brutally rising through every defense.

And then there were times like this, when Caleb’s lungs were telling a totally different story.

When his breath was heavy, and shaking, coming sharp through his nose. At first Molly had found them upsetting, unsure if Caleb was engaged with the moment, or simply enduring it. Now the tiefling couldn’t get enough of Caleb’s subtle sounds. He loved Caleb’s breathing. Because at some point along the way, Molly had figured out that Caleb’s heavy shuddering exhales, were carefully restrained moans that the wizard didn’t voice.

So Caleb’s sharply plunging breath, as Molly ingratiated his tongue into the wizard’s half protesting mouth, was extremely gratifying. Molly wanted to moan with him. Caleb had a beautiful mouth.

Molly loved Caleb’s mouth.

He was softer, less feral than Molly’s own seductive lips and tongue. Really that was true of the human’s entire body, as a general rule, but especially in his face. His tongue was soft where Molly’s was forked, no fangs that had to be applied carefully, only smooth pearly human teeth, unbroken flesh instead of Molly’s hard piercing. The wizard’s mouth was soft, pleasant, and Molly felt like moaning.

So he did. He had Caleb’s body pressed up against a wall, Caleb’s breath catching against his lips, Caleb’s tongue intertwining with his own. There was pretty much nothing not to love.

And things were only getting better.

Like a block of ice, Caleb was slowly melting. With time, and familiarity, the walls began to drop, inch by inch. And as he gained more confidence, he did more exploring, which was exactly the way to make Molly weak in the knees. When he was the target, the object under observation, and Caleb was clearly drawing a map on Molly’s skin.

Molly loved that.

Caleb unexpectedly slipped his tongue past Molly’s, which was already amazing, and then _yes_. _yes_. _yes_ _please_. His soft human tongue was in Molly’s mouth, exactly where Molly wanted it to ruin him, and the tiefling felt no reservations about sucking on it. Which made a perfectly filthy slick wet sound, that hit Molly right in the place of no defense, where there was only need and heat.

There was a time when that would have scared Caleb away, when he would have dragged back from the possessive inviting pressure. But these days he didn’t. These days he would give in, and follow Molly’s beguiling lead, running his soft human tongue along the back of Molly’s fanged teeth.

That was most days. This time he went farther. As he suddenly crushed back into Molly’s mouth, his hands settled around Molly’s waist. It was a little shrinking and wary, but there none the less. And the possessive weight around Molly’s hips was more than enough to make the tiefling’s stomach clench up pleasantly, broadcasting his enjoyment with a moan, as he made no objections to Caleb’s hands on him. He loved Caleb’s hands.

Even that would have been more than enough. Molly was ready to die happy. With a moan in his throat, and Caleb’s hands around his waist, as he opened up for the exploring tongue in his mouth. Then Caleb’s grip on his pelvis suddenly tightened, enough to make Molly’s moan catch in his throat, and the wizard possessively jerked Molly’s hips forward. It caught the tiefling off balance, off guard. It caught him in a place of no defenses, where he was ready to go soft, roll over and beg like a slut. The sound he made was unmistakably a whimper, something thready and aching with arousal, a debauched sound pulled straight from the torturing ache in his cock.

He had to have a wet mark on the front of his leggings by now...

Molly had said, he liked sex with pretty people. He considered nearly everyone gorgeous, as a general rule, and so that wasn’t a narrow selection group by any means. As long as everyone was interested, and nobody had any extra baggage they were bullshitting about, Molly was happy to fuck. Caleb, in Molly’s eyes, definitely more than counted as pretty people.

That was the damn truth of it.

The longer they indulged this little game, the more Molly found himself interested in the stakes. Caleb just got more beautiful the longer Molly explored him. And that was annoying as shit, because the longer they did this, the more and more Molly wanted to fuck. Like an ache in his bones, as primal as his need for air. But that was across the line, the invisible barrier between how close they were, and how close Molly wanted them to be.

Really, he just wanted.

Especially now. At the moment Caleb was breathtaking, overwhelming, and Molly was in love with every bit of it. He was in love, and his cock was throbbing like it had a mind of its own, definitely aroused enough to be leaking. Molly was so wet, it should probably be embarrassing. The tiefling was immune to embarrassment however, because letting himself get off this hard felt too good to care, and he’d always enjoyed leaking like a slut anyway. Caleb just had the magic ability to get him there faster than anyone else Molly had ever fancied.

And a large part of him was extremely tempted to give in against Caleb’s hands completely, to surge all the way forward, until they were pressed hip to hip and groin to groin. It was an extremely tempting idea, cock jumping at the briefest thought of grinding himself against Caleb, until they were both unmistakably aware of the needy length and heat between Molly’s legs. But the last time they’d done that, hadn’t gone so well, so the part of Molly’s mind that was still rationally in control didn’t do that.

He was hard as fuck though, so he did the next best thing. Dropping a hand away from its grip around Caleb’s coat, Molly palmed his own dick, and jerked it through his leggings. The touch made the breath in his throat catch, mind turning into white static as the pleasure between his legs spiked. He did have a wet spot on the front of his leggings.

“Mollymauk.” Caleb said, pulling away from Molly’s mouth.

The tiefling didn’t have enough coherence to object, so he merely glued his lips to the human’s neck, where it was exposed by his collar. He loved Caleb’s neck.

“What are you doing?” The wizard said, with suspicion that was clearly faked. They both knew exactly what Molly was doing.

“I’m touching myself, daring boy,” Molly purred, shivering delightedly as the confession sent a little coil of heat down to pool at the base of his cock.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I’m hard as fuck, dear.” Shifting to give Caleb a bit of a view, Molly said, “want to feel?”

For a half second Molly thought Caleb was going to do it. The human’s hand darted down, hovering on the edge of touching Molly’s cock. It was so close, and Molly was wrecked. The proximity made him choke on a whine, writhing beneath Caleb’s attention, as his cock unapologetically begged.

Then Caleb’s hand jerked away, as if he’d brought it too close to a fire, and it burned him.

Part of that hurt. The selfish part, the needy part, the part that could only think about how overworked he was, how unstrung he’d been pulled. That part was getting a bit ridiculous, turning him as horny as a teenager, getting aroused at the smallest things.

And another part hurt, in quite a different way. The part that lived for Caleb, breathed for his wellbeing. That part watched Caleb’s lines, Caleb’s carefully navigated equilibrium, and it was pure torture. Because he cared so deeply, it flayed him alive to watch Caleb stumble.

It was the second part that always won out.

“Red?” Molly murmured, need forgotten, as he ducked to try and catch Caleb’s eye and recall him to the surface.

“If we go there, _ja_...”

Caleb hung his head, as if he’d done something wrong. And Molly couldn’t have that. So he hooked a finger under the human’s chin, and tilted him up into a reassuring kiss. Their lips connected, and it wasn’t sexual, wasn’t heated. It was a different kind of passion all together. Something that clenched around Molly’s lungs, and clamped like a vice over his heart. As he realized all over again, how absolutely fucked he was.

He was falling for this work of art wasn’t he?

“No problem, sweetie.” He said softly, lips moving against Caleb’s mouth

This was bad.

“ _Danke_.”

“Of course.”

He had it so bad.

“We’ve been gone for twelve minutes now.” Caleb said with clocklike accuracy.

“Well that’s no good...can’t have anyone getting suspicious...now can we...”

It was bad alright...but Molly loved it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re gonna validate the rating on this puppy eventually. I promise. 
> 
> This is actually gonna go somewhere steamy...one of these days...
> 
> Lol


	9. Brake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Running through the parking lot, He chased me and he wouldn't stop. Tag, you're it. Tag, tag, you're it. Grabbed my hand, pushed me down, took the words right out my mouth. Tag, you're it. Tag, tag, you're it_
> 
> [Tag, You’re It](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=RLYlMq6MU2s). By Melanie Martinez.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TRIGGER WARNING** LIKE HOLY SHIT, BIGGEST TRIGGER WARNING EVER.
> 
> For: Discussions of dubious consent. Discussions of past abuse (both mental and physical), sexual assault, and extreme manipulative behavior. Discussions of internalized victim blaming. 
> 
> Please pay attention to these, and if you have any doubts at all, please go to the end notes to get a brief summery of the chapter if you want it. Or just wait until the next update comes out, when these topics will not be discussed in such detail. 
> 
> Stay healthy, and take care of yourselves, my darlings <3

Caleb didn’t exactly know what to expect out of this...whatever it was...

It had taken him longer than expected to make it this far. Part of him was dumbfounded that he’d even found the courage to try. But “don’t hide what you’re feeling” Molly had said, so here Caleb was after several distractions. About to talk about...Feeling...

But still, it had taken him all morning and most of the afternoon, to push himself to be here.

Somehow Jester had cajoled him into partaking in a poker game with her and Nott, that left him five gold poorer than he’d been before the game. Then Nott had nervously asked him about a new spell she was trying to learn, but couldn’t get a grip on, and Caleb had delved head first into a lengthy discussion of spell components and uses. Fjord figured out what they were talking about, and soon Caleb was trying to explain the differences between wizard and warlock casting practices, how the two could learn from each other, and how many recorded ancient warlocks there were. Beau had complained loudly about her drink being empty, and Caleb had volunteered to grab another round. Jester needed someone to help her with the shading on her sketch, and Caleb found himself speaking up, even though he didn’t know anything about art. And then of course he had to buy paper and ink for his own spell studies.

In conclusion: he was stalling. Badly.

Part of that was his own paranoia. The stubborn tenacious conviction that things were going to go horribly wrong. That somehow Mollymauk, even after all this time, would let the other shoe drop. When it was the two of them, alone, vulnerable, away from others. Because deep down, where it tasted of ash and cinders, he knew: he shouldn’t trust anyone.

Self doubt made up for the rest of it: Caleb would be intruding, he was being annoying, needy. Childish. Trailing around after this amazing tiefling that had no more need for a stuffy awkward wizard, than he had need for a spot of mud on his perfect rainbow coat. Molly had to know that, had to realize how good he was by now. How good, and how kind, and how completely and utterly out of Caleb’s league. And if he hadn’t realized before now, this time he would. When Caleb walked in, smelling of body odor, mud, and horse shit, the tiefling would wake up. He would get angry, or worse still, get cold. Like ice.

Like Trent.

And that was the heart of it. The quivering little tremble, at the center of everything else. _Want_. The magnetic tug of North getting stronger, the nebulous something growing clearer, Mollymauk Tealeaf getting brighter. He knew it was selfish. He knew that, and it still didn’t change anything. Because even with all he had, more than he ever dreamed of receiving, that selfish, arrogant, terrified child at the center of him demanded more.

More, and yet more, and _more_.

It wasn’t enough. When Molly kissed his forehead, Caleb wanted his lips. _Pervert_. When Molly’s hand brushed his, Caleb wanted to hold it. _Weak_. When Molly scattered his smiles like pennies, Caleb smothered the jealous desire to snarl Mine. _Narcissist_.

So he stalled, and he hesitated, and he second guessed. Until suddenly he wasn’t procrastinating anymore, pulling together just enough courage to find himself here. Here, at the door of Mollymauk Tealeaf, on the edge of knocking.

That was as far as his courage could carry him, and the door was laughing derisively.

This was a really fucking stupid idea wasn’t it? Caleb, you’re an idiot.

At his sides, his hands twitched, on the edge of knocking. But not enough momentum gathered to do anything but clench, and unclench. Over, and over, and over.

Who the hell would want to soil their hands with your shit? You’re tainted, and you’re just going to defile him too.

The wooden door only stared at him. Inscrutable, immovable, accusatory. As if it were daring him to drudge up the gall to knock. Caleb wasn’t sure he had it in him. The door was right, he shouldn’t be here.

Nobody wants you...why don’t you just do everyone a favor and die...

Caleb whined and looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly against the sting that thought inspired. Clenching his hands again, as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, he mentally counted to ten. Then he looked back at the door.

It still didn’t think he could do it. Part of him was inclined to agree.

“I’m going to do this.” He hissed under his breath.

“ _Go away_ ,” the door croaked back, since it didn’t have a voice, but he was sure that’s what the door would have said if it did. “ _He’s too good for you, and I’m calling it right now_.”

“ _Ja_ , well, I am still going to try.” He said, jerkily bringing his hand up to hover a few feet from the wood.

“ _Bad idea_.”

“ _Nein_ ,” he contradicted stubbornly, “this is fine.”

” _Go away_.”

”Things are going _gut_.”

“ _Things are shit_.” The door growled with disheartening conviction. “ _You are shit_.”

“I’m going to try.” He asserted, hand hanging motionless in front of the door, too far away to knock, but too close to be anything but an attempt to.

“ _Go away_.”

“ _Nein_.”

“ _He doesn’t want you. Nobody should_. ”

It hurt to put a voice to that. Hurt, because he couldn’t argue with it.

“Still going to try.” Caleb hissed around the catch in his throat, physically leaning forward toward the door, as if he could push it with his body.

A floundering gasp like a drowning man, or a victim on the edge of torture. He clenched his eyes, clenched his fist, clenched his teeth. Counted to three. Counted again. Counted a third time, desperate and grasping at the back of his mind, hanging on every number.

Gritted his teeth, clung to the number three, and wrenched the door open.

<><><>

“I’m ready.”

The sound of Caleb’s voice made Molly glance up from his activity. He’d been in the middle of going through his pack, categorizing what he needed to buy at the Pentamarket, and what he could do without. It was mundane, boring. A moment of dull when Mollymauk Tealeaf, the life of the party, had nothing better to do than write a fucking shopping list.

Then Caleb appeared at his door, looking paler than his usual human Color of Bread Dough pale.

He clumsily crossed the room, and sank down to sit opposite Mollymauk, twisting the hem of his coat between his hands. “I’m ready to talk about it,” he whispered, voice barely more than a thread.

“It?” Molly said, eyes traveling first from Caleb’s face, to the nervous plucking motion of the wizard’s hands. The combination of the two made his heart ache, like an echo of preparation, as the muscles of his empathy stretched themselves.

“You asked why I was upset.” Caleb whispered.

“Yes I did ask that.” Molly said, privately feeling his heart sink at the confirmation of his suspicions about where this conversation was heading.

“So I have thought about it, and I am ready to...speak about it...”

“In private?” Mollymauk asked kindly.

“That,” Caleb’s eyes darted to the open bedroom door, “would be preferable, _ja_.”

“That can be arranged,” Molly said.

It was the work of a moment, easy as breathing, to push the door shut. He didn’t miss the way Caleb jumped at the sound, and was careful to move slowly as he approached, and took a seat on the bed. Following the tiefling’s lead, Caleb scooted backwards, leaning against the headboard, as he looked across the bed at Molly.

“We’re all alone, sweet boy,” Molly declared as he sat, voice completely devoid of suggestive innuendo.

“ _Ja_...” the wizard intoned, monotonous and devoid of life, starring blindly at the nervous shredding of his hands.

“There’s no need to push,” Molly said gently, “no pressure. You can wait if you want.”

“No, I...need to do this...”

A long moment’s silence hung on the air, pregnant with expectation. Mollymauk waited, patiently, like a cat, watching as Caleb tore apart the edge of his coat. Several times the wizard twitched, as if about to speak, but the words never came, and he continued sitting silent.

“I want to talk about...important things...” Caleb said at last, voice rough around the edges. “So that you...understand why you should not touch me.”

Molly pretended to miss the way Caleb’s hands were shaking.

“Personally I was wondering if you had beginners nerves.” The tiefling joked offhandedly.

“Beginners...nerves?”

“I was wondering if you’re a virgin, Caleb.” Molly explained kindly, voice as neutral as possible.

“Oh.” he said, blinking rapidly, as he started backwards slightly.

“It was one explanation anyway,” Molly continued, filling Caleb’s silence, “for your uneasiness.”

Caleb shook his head, and stammered, “ _nein_ , I am not a virgin...I have had...experiences...with other men before...”

Molly frowned. There was something wrong with that sentence, if he could only parse out what it was. Like a minor note in the middle of a cheerful song, there was something not quite there in Caleb’s assertion, like a painting of the wrong colors. It was sending off little warning bells in the back of his head, as the hair on his arms prickled instinctively.

“Experiences,” Molly said carefully.

As if sensing the tiefling’s guarded voice, Caleb curled into himself. Coiling up behind his knees, like a child sheltering in the rain, Caleb pulled his arms back into the sleeves of his coat. Which only made Molly all the more on guard, like a dog with its hackles raised. This was wrong.

“I am here” Caleb said, “to tell you about...that...” he flushed, and continued in a hurried rush. “Which is why I would like to trade.”

“What do you mean?” Molly probed, tilting his head on one side.

“I am not a brave man,” Caleb said voice dry and reedy.

The tiefling across from him growled in disagreement.

“ _Nein_ , it is true. I am a coward.” Caleb contradicted, with painfully honest self loathing, as if it was a thing everybody knew. “Beau would call me a pussy...”

“Well then I need to have a talk with her, and scream her fucking ear off,” Molly rumbled dangerously.

The anger in Molly’s voice made Caleb shrink, as he always did.

Molly fucking hated that.

How Caleb always assumed he was the one to blame.

It had happened more than once. Molly’s anger, Molly’s annoyance, Molly’s moment’s of pessimism. Hell, even Molly’s rainy days, when he crawled out the wrong side of the bed. They always put Caleb on edge, always put him on the defense. They put him backward, every two steps forward undone by one step back.

Like an old lie, programmed into him so long ago, Caleb couldn’t remember learning it anymore. It was just old scars, and base survival instinct. Molly noticed all these things, and it only made him angrier. Because it was only too clear, that Caleb’s previous experiences had taught him that anger always meant punishment of some kind. And not a rational punishment, something always given to the one at fault. If that were true, Caleb would feel no fears, when anger was clearly not directed at himself.

Being unexpectedly punished for other people’s sins: that would engender far more paranoia.

“Beau’s right though,” Caleb mumbled in a conciliatory whisper, “I’m terrified of everything...”

“Still doesn’t make you a coward.” Mollymauk contradicted gently. “Fear just makes you braver, darling. When you’re scared enough to shit yourself, and you keep going anyway? That seems pretty damn brave to me...”

Caleb considered that, silent for several moments, as he gazed vacantly through the bed.

“I see you face things that scare the shit out of you all the time,” Molly said, trying to pull Caleb back in with the gentleness of his voice. “So forgive me, if I think you’re a brave, because that is my definition of bravery. Not some idiotic idea of reckless courage, like Beau might think.”

“That’s...not something I’ve heard before...”

“Doesn’t make you uncomfortable, I hope?”

“Just,” Caleb shifted uncomfortably in his tight little ball, and finished in a guilty mumble, “it’s hard to think that way...about myself...”

“That’s alright, no one blames you for it, sweetie.” Molly hummed.

Caleb smiled thinly, at no one in particular.

“You wanted to talk though,” Molly prompted, noting the way Caleb immediately shrank up fearfully. “About something that scared the shit out of you. Can ya tell me what it was?”

“I would like you to take turns,” Caleb stated, with a strange kind of toneless determination. “Trading your...previous sexual experiences...for mine.”

“We’re doing a How Many People Have I Fucked talk?” Molly said, grinning humorlessly.

“Are these...conversations common?”

“I really couldn’t say, darling,” Molly shrugged, “most of the people I sleep with aren’t really interested in the soulful connection.”

“It was the only way I could think of to do this.” Caleb said, voice colored with guilt.

“Well if you want to share, and put up with _me_ sharing, I would be honored, love.” Molly said, lounging back against the bed. “Where are we supposed to start?”

“At the beginning.” Caleb stated quickly, almost too readily, as if it was an answer he’d been rehearsing. “I want to know about your first.”

“Feeling a wee bit curious are we?” Molly teased coyly. A carefree tone pulled over the lurch of apprehension that coiled through his stomach, signaling the rise of old long forgotten discomforts. “Maybe you’re picturing something lit with candlelight, as I gave up my virginity on a bed of roses?”

“The beginning.” Was all Caleb said in response, voice dried out and toneless.

“Well sorry to disappoint you, darling, but it wasn’t on a bed of roses,” Molly said. The teasing mask suddenly dropped away, and he laughed bitterly. “It was a pretty sorry affair, that we were both glad to forget all about, and move on with our lives as if it never happened.”

“When?” Caleb whispered, “how old were you?”

“Exactly seventeen days after the circus took me in. I was...fuck...I was so fucking empty.” Molly shivered. “I basically forced Gustav to let me sleep with him.”

“Gustav,” Caleb repeated, brow contracting into a confused frown.

“I was this hopelessly confused baby stumbling around in an adult body. There were all these...childlike concepts...mixed in with half remembered adult behaviors, and I...” he dragged his hands over his face, before dropping them helplessly in his lap. “I was so grateful to Gustav for taking me in, giving me shelter, keeping me safe...but I didn’t have a fucking thing to give back. And being a literal newborn, with no fucking idea how the world worked, I decided the logical thing was to give him my body.”

Molly laughed, empty and mirthless, starring with hollow eyes at the empty space between them on the bed.

“It was really fucking stupid.” he said sadly. “I crawled into bed with him, and tried to suck his cock. But he wouldn’t let me, and I cried. I just kept trying until he just sort of gave up...I rode his cock dry until I couldn’t fucking move anymore, cried the whole time, and neither of us finished.”

Heavy silence filled the room after Molly fell silent, and he stubbornly blinked against the burn of tears in his throat.

“So yeah,” Molly finished lamely, “not a bed of roses.”

“I’m sorry.” Caleb whispered.

He sounded sorry. Glancing at Caleb’s face, Molly could see what looked like unshed tears, glittering in his eyes. It wasn’t much, and really it was unbearably egotistical, but Molly had to admit: the sympathy made him feel better.

“I am too,” Molly said, empty and heavy with regret. “I ruined our friendship.”

Nodding distantly, Caleb hunched down behind his knees. He looked humorously like a protective turtle...if either of them had been in the mood for humor at that particular moment...as it was, Molly found it too pitiful to be funny.

“Mine was Trent.” The wizard stated mechanically.

A thousand images and questions flashed through Molly’s mind all at once. An image of Trent Ikithon’s face, hazy and dim through the fog of distraction and faulty memory. Brief snippets of conversation, when Yasha mentioned Trent offhandedly, and Beau looked at Caleb with concern. Fjord mentioning a teacher at the academy named Trent, Yasha attracting the interest of a man named Trent, Beau bitching about some creepy fuck named Trent. All these things passed through Molly’s mind, broken puzzle pieces that were suddenly falling into place.

And as each one formed part of the picture, Molly watched with a rising surge of Horror.

“He was my Teacher: a very great wizard...so much power...” Caleb shuddered, hunching over his stomach as if he were trying not to throw up. “He would pass on his knowledge to chosen students, and...I was one of those students...”

“What did he do?” Molly questioned suspiciously.

“Nothing. Not at first.” Caleb said, shaking his head. “I was, very stupid. He said to ask him anything we wanted, that he was here to teach, here to help. And he did, he taught us so much. Things that hurt. But they made you so powerful.”

He smiled sadly, and for half an instant his eyes flickered up to meet Molly’s, as the melancholy smirk crossed his face. “I used to be so much stronger.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Molly contradicted loyally, “considering how strong you are now, darling.”

“ _Nein_ , I am weak.” Caleb shook his head, once again fixated on nothing. “He had...ways to draw you out...He always knew how to make you break, where all the cracks were, how to use them. So that he could rip you apart, and rebuild you.”

Molly shuddered.

The straightforward factual way Caleb spoke of his teacher’s nature, made it far more unsettling. His tone was for a fact of life, like his hair being red, or his cat being cuddly. He spoke of Trent’s intentions as if they were things he took for granted. As if they were unchangeable as the shape of his own face.

“And how did he ‘rebuild’ you?” Molly breathed.

“I was very stupid.” Caleb said, his voice suddenly shattering apart, and he squeezed his eyes shut as if the light in the room hurt him. “I was so foolish, and in love, and afraid of failure. So I asked him how to be a good kisser.”

Hunching up behind his knees, in a fetal position so coiled it looked almost painful, Caleb continued in a whisper. “I—I wanted to know...for Astrid...and so I asked him, because he told us to always ask. And what I remember wasn’t wrong. He only laughed, and told me to put my heart in it. That was all he did. That was all.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That was his power. I thought—I _remembered_ —nothing wrong.” The wizard’s voice sounded so raw, Molly didn’t want to listen, his blue eyes looking wide and glassy into space. “But...I remembered later.” He shivered hard. “I remembered all of it later. He said he would show me, and we kissed. Hard, too close, and I didn’t like it. So I, you know, I pushed away, and he let me go. And then I...forgot...”

“How is that...possible...” Molly probed with heavy skepticism.

“He hid it from me,” Caleb said, as if he were speaking of something so simple to do. “I could only see what he wanted me to remember. And I remembered nothing wrong.”

“He just made you... _forget_...that he forced you to kiss him?” Molly said, voice caught between a growl and a heartbroken sob.

“ _Ja,_ ” Caleb confirmed, tucked down into his coat. “He made me forget all the time.”

“Wizards can do shit like that?”

Licking dry lips, Caleb dragged his eyes to Molly’s face, and stated “no matter how strong you get, he is always stronger than you...” Like a rule you must never forget about: _don’t touch fire, it burns, don’t walk barefoot in winter, you’ll freeze. Don’t forget, Trent is stronger than you._

“Gods, Caleb—“ Molly began.

“It was _terrifying_.” Caleb hissed, his eyes distant, and looking somewhere else. Somewhere Past. “Waking up with scars you don’t remember getting. Remembering people saying things, that nobody else will agree they said. Being afraid of each other, but you don’t remember why. I was so scared of him: to let him touch me, or look at me. I wanted to crawl away and hide. All for no reason, nothing wrong, nothing different, but my skin hated having him near me.”

“Caleb...” Mollymauk murmured, with an ache deep in his chest to drag Caleb into his arms, and hide him away forever. “Gods, darling, I’m so sorry...”

“It wasn’t just the kiss.” Caleb stated in a shattered whisper, so quiet Molly had to struggle to hear him.

Mollymauk could have guessed that, but it made his stomach turn inside out to think about it.

“He...“ for a long few moments Molly thought Caleb had lost his voice completely, before the wizard rasped faintly, “he touched me...more than once...”

“Caleb...”

“That was how he did it: made me break.” Caleb choked, slipping downwards into frantic memory, and long smothered panic. “He would take what he wanted, and then make me forget.

“Darling, we don’t have to talk about this.”

“I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. Like I needed to run, but didn’t know why. And I tried, but he wouldn’t let me, and I was so afraid...so _afraid_...before he did anything—“

“Caleb, please don’t.”

“I didn’t even fight back in the end...I just...and he pushed and pushed and _pushed_...” for a moment Caleb’s voice disappeared into a gag, and it returned a moment later with something hollow in it, like all the color was gone. “Until he got what he wanted. And I forgot.”

“Oh sweetheart...” Molly hissed, voice barely a thread through the tears in his throat.

“He did that,” Caleb said, cracking apart at the seams, as fear and despair leaked into his voice. “So many times. I just forgot. It just all disappeared. I just... _blocked_ it all off...and obeyed him like he was  _Gott_...”

For a moment black ugly silence fell, so thick Molly felt as if he was choking on it. A fume of old torture and broken memories hanging in the air like poison. It was suffocating, and they were both drowning.

“So now you see—“ Caleb choked, finally shattering, as a punishing sob wrenched from his lungs, “why you cannot care about me. He—I’m—He ruined me, and now I can’t get it back, and I can’t be good for you, I’m not good. I can’t...can’t...”

Molly could feel the tears on his face now. And for once, he didn’t give a shit about hiding what he was really feeling. All he had time for was the wretched, broken, self loathing wizard falling apart in front of him.

“Caleb, love, how is this meant to change anything.”

“I’m tainted,” Caleb whispered, the disgust in his voice showing how much he meant it. “I’ll just make you dirty too...”

This poor boy was going to break Mollymauk’s heart.

“Gods, Caleb, what?” Molly stammered, blended disgust and rage boiling up all at once. “How in the hell...”

“I’ll get his poison on you,” Caleb said, little more than a contrite broken thread. “He took first.”

“That,” Molly bit out, harsh and vehement, “is a sack of utter bullshit.”

The statement felt like something shattering in the room, leaving ringing silence behind it. Caleb flinched at Molly’s changed tone, and shrank into himself apologetically. While Molly on the other hand, felt like he was expanding. All his horror, and grief, and crushing empathy for Caleb’s pain, suddenly transforming into a single seed of pure righteous fury. Someday he was going to find every last sick motherfucker that had ever made Caleb feel less than enough, and gut them with his sword, so he could watch them die in a pool of their own bowels and vomit.

Nobody, was _ever_ , going to hurt his boy again.

“I don’t give a fuck what Trent did.” Molly said, with hardened iron and bladed resolve. “Whatever you think he took from you, or however you think he ruined you, I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.”

“ _Nein_ ,” came Caleb’s response, in a cracked whisper.

“Don’t tell me what I can, or can’t feel. All I care about is you, and I’ll care about you the same no matter what happens. Trent can’t change that. He can’t fucking take that from me.”

Caleb was shivering, hard, and fragile enough to make Molly cry. But all that came out of his mouth, was a word that Molly had never thought would break him to hear. “Why?”

“Because I’m not some fucking self righteous insufferable prick!” Molly shot back, almost savage. “Please, give me more respect than that. I mean, I know I’m a pretentious asshole, but I’m not _that_ kind of dick.” He nearly felt his voice break, and had to swallow before he could bring himself back together. “I care about you just the same as I ever did, darling boy...Always will...”

A childlike sniffle from behind Caleb’s knees was all that answered him. Molly could see the wizard’s shoulders shaking, where he was curled up in his fetal ball, pushed down into something so small Molly thought it would drive him mad. His arms still itched.

“Caleb,” the tiefling said, the sharpness of his tone forcing Caleb to raise his head. And then Molly held out his arms pleadingly, and murmured, “come’ere...”

The wizard came as soon as Molly invited him. Almost eagerly, as if he were going to fall apart, without some kind of touch to hold him together. Shaking and clumsy, he pushed into Molly’s arms, and Molly squeezed him in chokingly tight. Then they settled, with Caleb’s face tucked into the hollow of Molly’s sternum, and Molly’s fiery lips on the top of Caleb’s head.

“You’re so brave, darling, I don’t fucking care what Beau would say,” Molly soothed clumsily around the tears in his throat. “You’re so brave, and I know how fucking _hard_ this must have been to say, and I’m so proud, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

“You aren’t...sick of me?” Caleb inquired, the words choked and forced through layers of fear and restraining barriers.

It was something so soft and vulnerable, Molly wanted to scream.

“Of course I’m not, darling,” Molly fondly whispered back, leaning away a little awkwardly, in order to press a kiss against Caleb’s forehead. “Trent can’t change that.”

That was when Caleb truly gave up. The release rolling through his body, as his shoulders uncoiled, his muscles relaxed, and the tears came. Until Molly’s shirt was wet, and Caleb’s eyes were finally dry. Until Molly had run out of soothing things to whisper in Caleb’s ear, and Caleb had fallen into an exhausted slumber.

Even after that Molly lingered in the land of the conscious, in no hurry to drift off. He could only lie still, as afternoon turned golden with evening, watching Caleb’s face. Tracing every line, every freckle, every pale snowy white scar. It was strangely peaceful after all the turmoil that had come before.

Just sitting with the wizard in his arms, acknowledging that even after everything come before, Caleb was still here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary:
> 
> Caleb, after some mental struggle, goes to Molly and tells the tiefling he’s ready to talk about why he got so upset the first time they kissed. Molly reassures Caleb of the wizard’s bravery, when Caleb verbally abuses himself. When Caleb asks Molly to trade the story of his “previous sexual experiences” for Caleb’s, starting at the first, Molly does. He tells Caleb that he tried to provide Gustav with sexual favors, as thanks for being taken into the circus. Gustav refused, and did not reciprocate, which upset Molly.
> 
> After hearing Molly’s story, Caleb tells his own. That he was chosen by Trent, as a student, and that Trent “knew how to break, and rebuild, people.” In a moment of blind trust, Caleb asked Trent how to be a good kisser. Caleb asserted that, at the time, he remembered nothing wrong, but later realized that this complaisance was false. Trent altered Caleb’s memeory to forget about an unconcentual kiss, the teacher forced on him. Caleb goes on to admit that Trent Ikithon sexually assaulted him, more than once, using Modify Memory to forcefully erase and manipulate Caleb’s memories of the events.
> 
> Finally Caleb breaks down, and apologizes for not being enough, and being “Unable to recover what Trent took from him.” The wizard feels that he is tainted, and there is no way for Molly to get close, or the tiefling will be poisoned by association. Molly strongly disagrees, and asserts that he feels exactly the same as he ever did. After questioning this assertion, Caleb finally believes him, and breaks down into tears. The two share some cuddles, and Molly comforts the wizard as best he can.


	10. The Interlude (Mollymauk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Move. You can't touch it with your two hands. You can't find it with the third eye. I've been thirsting in the mud lands, for a well, it can't run dry, oh. Passed down to me through the wind, and in the silence of the white sound. It's always hidden in the dark night. Dug up from the cold ground._
> 
> [Goldmine](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=zDgDkCdrqFg), by Kimbra. 
> 
> (This song gives me so many Molly Emotions)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Interlude is going to be a series of moments, that I’ve wanted to explore in depth, but struggled to make into their own fic. As a bit of background added into this fic, they work quite well. 
> 
> So enjoy the first scrap of Molly’s past.

_Cold._

_(Where am I? Why can’t I breathe?)_

_Ache._

_(This hurts. I don’t like it. Make it stop.)_

_Empty..._

_(There was someone here...)_

_Empty._

_(Where did he go? He’s not here. He’s not me.)_

_Empty._

_(I’m not him...Who am I?)_

_He claws out of the dark, into still wider dark. He screams as soon as he has breath. Screams around the cloying bitter earth in his throat. Screams his emptiness to no one._

_(Come back.)_

_He gags around the clench in his stomach. It warps him, twists him, turns him upon himself. His stale gorge floods acid in his mouth. It burns. It sickens him. Earth and scarlet, suffocation and pain, leaves him all at once._

_Empty._

_(You can’t leave.)_

_Everything is leaving him. The vomit that pushes from his stomach. The vicious scarlet that pours from his mouth. The piss and terror that releases warm and stinking between his legs. It’s all gone. All going._

_All Empty._

_(Don’t leave me alone in here.)_

_But he is alone already. Fumbling in the dark. Nowhere to go, and nowhere to stay. Nothing left but this empty shell, and a screaming child inside it. The echo of a death, long died, long dead._

_Empty._

_(I’m scared.)_

_Empty._

_(Who am I.)_

_Empty._

_(Someone tell me where He went.)_

_The darkness lifts. It’s gone, like a nightmare banished by a beloved voice. As his eyes turn, he can see, and it’s blue. The world is silver. Cold. So cold. But beautiful cold._

_(Someone tell me who I am.)_

_He looks up. And then he’s not alone._

_There’s a face. The dark has a face! It’s looking at him, so huge it fills his vision, until everything else fades away. It’s just the face, and the dark, and the cold silver smile._

_“Empty...”_

_The sound escapes him as a sigh. As he lifts his hand to touch the face, and his hand reaches nothing. Extended and pleading, as if by sheer force of will, he could climb a ladder to the heavens._

_(Can you tell me who I am?)_

_Hand in front of the face, he can imagine touching it. Can imagine finding it warm. Finding it smiling. Finding it familiar. He strokes it, grasping from afar, pretending it’s close enough to touch._

_(I’m not alone.)_

_Frozen in the vaulted dark, the white face fills his wide eyed vision for as long as he can bare it. Face to face, and darkness to darkness. This is a wordless love. No sins, to speech, nothing that could explain._

_This is the devotion of a child, selflessly offering love to the first Mother he ever sees._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please share your thoughts! Because these moments are so short, I’ll probably have the next one out soon :)


	11. The Interlude (Caleb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In einem Bächlein helle,_   
>  _Da schoss in froher Eil’_   
>  _Die launische Forelle_   
>  _Vorueber wie ein Pfeil._   
>  _Ich stand an dem Gestade_   
>  _Und sah in süsser Ruh’_   
>  _Des muntern Fishleins Bade_   
>  _Im klaren Bächlein zu._
> 
> [Die Forelle](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=pznaAzzB_xg), by Schubert. 
> 
> (This is the creepiest fucking song ok. I love it. Also, there’s a translation in the end notes.)

_“I hate to interrupt your dance. Nights like this are meant for the young people, I know you must be enjoying yourselves.”_

_The power coming off the old man makes the hairs on Bren’s arms prickle. Like walking into an invisible wave of heat. This is a master. He can tell by Astrid’s face: she feels it too. Her smile is gone. His giddy laughter has drained away. The waltz in the background is suddenly unimportant._

_Trent Ikithon._

_One curtsey, and a nervous half bow later, (which the man doesn’t respond to), Master Ikithon beckons commandingly._

_“Come with me.”_

_Bren’s shivering before they even reach the balcony. Not weak enough to reach for Astrid’s hand...but close to it...As they step out into the cooler night air, where the stars hang overhead, and the dance music still serenades gently through the open doors behind them. It’s deserted outside. And that only makes it ten times worse._

_Master Ikithon turns to look at them._

_And laughs gently._

_“You look ready to receive a scolding!” He chuckles, as if somehow they’re all in on the joke._

_They aren’t._

_“Come, come,” Master Ikithon says, when they keep to confused silence, “I don’t bite.”_

_“Our apologies, sir,” Astrid says. It’s admirable how in control she sounds, as if this is something that happens to her every day. She steps up beside him too, and her comfortingly warm hand slips into his “It’s just that being from...less entitled families...Wulf, Bren, and myself, have been used to facing...exceedingly high expectations, that we are scolded for being unable to meet.”_

_It sounds good, when she says it like that. Not as if she’s whining, or any of them are lazy. But neither does it sound like she’s openly calling the teachers unfairly prejudiced._

_(Which they are)._

_“Meaning, you’re used to being punished by your masters, for not pleasing them...or in other words, for coming from a common lineage.” Master Ikithon says ironically._

_“Yes sir.”_

_“It is a rather unfortunate prejudice that continues to persist...it disregards so much talent, that could be taken advantage of...” the Master muses, almost to himself. Then he gathers himself, and turns on them fully. “Happily for you, I am not here to treat you so sternly.”_

_It’s not quite a relief. What the Master wants is still a mystery. But its enough to set Bren a little more at ease. And Astrid (despite the deathlike grip she has around his hand), says with enviable unconcern, “we’re glad to hear it, sir.”_

_“I’m sure you are,” he smiles urbanely. “In fact, I am here for quite the opposite reason. It is my duty to tell you that, not only have you met our high expectations (no matter what your instructors would like to tell you), but you have greatly exceeded them.”_

_Astrid nearly breaks his fingers, she squeezes so hard. And it takes every ounce of his self control not to shout. Either with giddy triumph that they’ve somehow managed to garner some approval, or the excruciating pain of Astrid’s hand around his._

_“Thank you sir.” Astrid stammers, when she gets her breath back, and he nods fervently with her._

_“That is not all I have to say.” Master Ikithon says, as if to wisely check their thoughts before they can run on too far. “I am here for a twofold reason...You probably wonder why I do not teach at the academy. Truthfully I do teach some students. And I have been here, for the past week, examining the students for...promising individuals.”_

_If this is going where he thinks it is..._

_“I’ve been impressed by all three of you,” Master Ikithon states. “Both you, and the other student from the Zemni Fields, show remarkable adaptation to the new principals you have been presented with. And I fear that you will be both under appreciated, and under stimulated here; surrounded by only basic minds, and basic teachings to guide you. So, I would like to offer you instruction under my private tutoring.”_

_Bren’s tongue sticks hard to the roof of his mouth, as if it got glued there. Astrid breathes a reverent “sir...” and then looses her voice._

_“If you agree, you will be departing with me tomorrow for my own home. Where I will educate you privately.”_

_Astrid is already opening her mouth to speak, but Master Ikithon interrupts her with a raised hand._

_“I sincerely hope you accept my offer, but I will warn you,” Trent Ikithon says, getting stern and cold, “I am a demanding teacher. You will find my methods of instruction both unconventional and uncomfortable. Any standards you have been set here, will be even more difficult there. Any challenges you have faced, will be trifling comparative with what you will wrestle in the future. Any rules and standards you think you know, will undoubtably be broken. But I can promise you,” and here he smiles, with blades behind his teeth, “should you pass my tests you will find yourselves stronger than you ever dreamed of becoming. I am not interested in training mediocre casters. I am in the business of building great men and women.”_

_Bren nods, and Astrid murmurs “yes sir.”_

_“Now, tell me. Does that intimidate you?” The Master inquires with a sharp edge of sarcasm. “Or do you accept my offer?”_

_“I accept.” Astrid spits, with ferocious ambition, and vehement anticipation._

_She sounds like a tigress._

_“And I’m sure you agree with her.” Trent states, glancing from Bren’s face, to his hand locked in Astrid’s, and the teacher smiles._

_It feels strangely like being laughed at._

_“I am intimidated, ja,” Bren says steadily, a little stung by whatever hidden insinuation just slipped past his insight. “But that doesn’t mean I wish to turn back.”_

_“Well said!” Master Ikithon complements, with the closest thing to a real smile that has appeared on his face. “That is indeed a very good answer, young master Bren.”_

_There’s a release behind the old man’s words. As if Bren has passed an unspoken test, that he didn’t know he was facing._

_“Miss Astrid, I have a request,” Master Ikithon says absently, still distantly examining Bren. “Would you be so kind, as to fetch your fellow Zemnian student, so I can speak to him? My offer extends to him.”_

_Astrid, clever, insightful as always, glances between them. Her eyes find Trent’s face, and then Bren’s own. She curtseys and leaves without a word._

_“I must admit,” Master Ikithon says, as soon as they’re alone, drawing Bren toward the edge of the balcony with a hand on Bren’s shoulder. The hand lingers, even after they still. “I have a special curiosity about you, young Bren. You’re intelligent. Talented.”_

_“Thank you sir,” Bren says glancing uncertainly at the stone balustrade running beside them._

_“Yes.” The master states, as if it isn’t a question. “You have potential. Far more than that girl, or the other boy. I could almost dispense with them, in favor of teaching you. But they still might be useful in their way...You however...I have high hopes for you.”_

_He shivers. There’s a kind of complement in that. But it holds very little pleasure, when given at the expense of his friends._

_“Do you think you’re ready to be a great man, young Bren Ermendrud?” Master Ikithon prods with a calculating edge to his voice again, and he suddenly seizes Bren under the chin, forcing his head up. “Do you even want to be?”_

_Collecting his nerves, Bren answers firmly._

_“Yes sir.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a clear little brook,  
> There darted, about in happy haste,  
> The moody trout  
> Dashing everywhere like an arrow.  
> I stood on the bank  
> And watched, in sweet peace,  
> The fish’s bath  
> In the clear little brook.
> 
> Translation of Die Forelle, by Schubert.


	12. The Interlude (Mollymauk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And it's burning in the furnace. And the fire in the third eye. No you won't find it on the surface. It rises out of the war cry. This goes over the heart, over the head. Go, and get past all the words, they said._
> 
> _Be still in your heart. Still in your head._
> 
> [Goldmine](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=zDgDkCdrqFg), by Kimbra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after a much longer wait than I originally intended, we’re getting some actual damn smut. 
> 
> Enjoy the experience people. Sorry it took me so long to validate the rating on this fic.

_He learns from Yasha._

_She doesn’t mean to teach him of course. She’s not one to treat him like that. But he catches her anyway._

_Yasha makes little noises. He can hear them from her bedroll across the tent. Little gasps, and whimpers, and groans. For that split second he thinks she’s hurting. In pain. And then something deeper tells him the opposite. A thing his body remembers, but his mind does not._

_It’s a familiar feeling. It happens to him all the time._

_When he tries figuring out how to put on shoes, and his hands are suddenly doing it for him. When he swims for the first time, and his legs know what to do. When he plays darts with Gustav, and he wins without knowing how._

_When he hears Yasha moan, and his body tells him, this is a very good noise._

_So he listens. Because it’s familiar, welcoming. He wants to figure out what this all means. And because it makes him feel...good? Warm? Excited? It’s like getting a present, when you don’t know what’s inside it. He doesn’t know what he’s going to get, but it’s going to be very nice, whatever it is._

_He listens to every noise. And her sounds are making him...do something really weird._

_He didn’t know his body could do that..._

_Yasha never touched that place. Back in the early days, when she had to help him eat, and bathe, and put his clothes on. She always avoided touching it. And because back then Yasha was his reference for how everything worked, she gave him the impression you weren’t supposed to touch it. And he obediently left it alone._

_But something about listening to her makes him really, really want to..._

_It’s a relief, when he gets the ties loose on his soft sleeping clothes. The too close restraint, relaxes, and leaves behind...a void to be filled. Cautiously he wriggles down, to get his head under his blanket, and really look at himself._

_His penis—Bo told him that was the name—is not behaving like it usually is...It’s always been soft, and it just kind of hangs between his legs. It’s just a part of his body he uses to relieve himself. (Bo taught him how to do that. Yasha said she wouldn’t. And Molly likes doing it, because Bo taught him how to draw shapes with your piss)._

_Cautiously he pokes himself with a finger. It makes the stiffened shaft bob against his stomach, and sends a nice little Heat through his thighs. Then his hand is suddenly taking over. This is a thing his body remembers, even while his brain watches with fascinated confusion._

_As he wraps a hand over himself, strokes...and suddenly it feels very, VERY, good.._ _._

_He can understand Yasha’s noises now. Because he barely catches himself, before he whimpers in the same way. But ‘don’t make noise’ his body demands, and shakily he obliges._

_It feels good, and he keeps going. Keeps exploring. Wringing himself between his hand, and watching as everything falls into a kind of rhythm. His hips are twitching into the grip, as if they want to help, make it even better. And he’s leaking something kind of slick, and clear. It’s also helping him, making everything slide easy and pleasant, instead of the painful too rough drag of skin against skin with nothing to help._

_He strokes himself, and stifles his noises. As the good, excited, too warm feeling only gets stronger. It makes his entire body feel warm, the extreme tip of every limb burning with life. And he wants more, he can feel it. There’s something else to make this feel better._

_Bucking into the grip of his hand, he tries to chase it. His hands are completely moving with a will of their own now, and he’s happy to give into them. As one fondles him faithfully, the other snakes down to touch the weight of his balls. For a moment that feels good, and then his hand squeezes too hard around his balls, and that...feels even better..._

_The contrast makes him intensely more aware of the good parts. It’s got him leaking freely, and twitching on the edge of something more. As he follows the downward plunge, and his body unexpectedly teaches him what climaxing feels like._

_He snaps apart. It hits a high, of warmth, and tension, and extreme pleasure. Everything going white, and grainy, and so perfectly amazing. As his penis jerks, and then its twitching, as it soils his hand._

_For the pinnacle it’s unbelievably hard to stifle himself from making a noise. As his body jumps, and leaks, and tells him to cry out. But he catches everything, only loosing control of one tiny whimper._

_Then he sags into the embrace of his bed roll. Unexpectedly fulfilled, and still reeling from the sudden revelation of so much pleasant sensation he hadn’t imagined he could wring from himself._

_He already wants to try again._

_But it hurts to touch himself now. The good feeling has gone from just enough, to overwhelming, and he’s forced to give up. Still shaking, and enjoying a lazy coil of warmth up his back, he resolves to wait._

_He’ll touch himself again tomorrow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT, I ACTUALLY GOT AROUND TO GIVING YOU GUYS A LITTLE SMUT


	13. The Interlude (Caleb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Ein Fischer mit der Rute_   
>  _Wohl an dem Ufer stand,_   
>  _Und sah’s mit kaltem Blute_   
>  _Wie sich das Fischlein wand._   
>  _So lang dem Wasser helle_   
>  _So dacht’ ich, nicht gebricht,_   
>  _So fängt er die Forelle_   
>  _Mit seiner Angel nicht._
> 
> [Die Forelle](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=pznaAzzB_xg), by Schubert.
> 
> Translation available in end notes.

_This is wrong._

_He knows this. He should know this._

_(You have a rare gift, my boy.)_

_But he doesn’t know it all the same._

_(A chance to truly set things right.)_

_Trent is never wrong._

_The weight in his hand is guilty. It burns him just to hold it. But it’s what’s been asked of him. And what his teacher asks, is never wrong._

_(As I see it, there is no reason to instruct you. You may employ whatever method you see fit.)_

_Wulf chooses magic._

_Astrid chooses raw blunt force._

_Bren grips more firmly around the knife._

_The magic is quick. That’s just Wulf’s way: efficiency. Something sterile and distant. It’s over in a moment. A scream, a chanted word, a bloody silence._

_Astrid...she’s always been dramatic. Her magic has flair, her presence has vivacity, her spirit has a glow. The method she chooses is neither clean, nor efficient. It’s effort. It’s fury. It’s fiercely channeled aggression, and long brewing rage. The rise and fall of a beating that leaves her heaving, almost too tired to stand. But smiling like the release of it has left her weightless. A smile on her face, and blood on her clothes._

_(I admire your passion Astrid. Find a channel for that drive, and your dedication will take you to great places.)_

_Which leaves just him._

_(I see so much talent in you.)_

_Just him, frozen, shivering, on the edge of a thing he can’t imagine doing._

_(Take care, lest you waste it, and achieve less than I expect.)_

_“Come on!” Wulf urges with a grin._

_He grips deathly tight around the knife._

_“You can do it...” Astrid murmurs, her voice something so dizzyingly gentle._

_(You’re such a good student.)_

_He wants to be enough._

_(Don’t disappoint me.)_

_He wants to be a good student._

_(My respect is earned, Bren Ermendrud.)_

_He wants to please Trent._

_(Do as I tell you.)_

_So he stumbles forward. He draws back. He stabs._

_(Every day you surpass expectations.)_

_A scream._

_(Every day you learn.)_

_The resistance of meat._

_(Every day you make me proud.)_

_And then blood. There’s so much of it. Like a dam breaking, it surges forth. Blood. Blood. Blood. A molten flood that stains his hands, stains his heart, stains his knife._

_(This is still not enough.)_

_Then Wulf is pounding his back. Astrid’s arms close around his neck. She embraces him, devotedly, recklessly. Her hands are on his cheeks, and she’s smiling so wide, he’s never seen her look happier._

_“I knew you were strong enough,” she whispers, just between them. And her lips are fire on his own._

_“Ew,” Wulf teases, sidelined by the kiss. “You two are gross.”_

_(Exceptional work, as expected.)_

_I will be a good student._

_And then Trent’s hand finds his shoulder. Trent’s smile fills him with warmth. Trent’s approval sinks beneath his skin._

_(Once again, you don’t disappoint.)_

_I will be enough._

_The relief of seeing that smile on his teacher’s face, is dizzying. Every day the burden is heavier. Every day he asks for more. With each new success, yesterdays achievements are no longer enough...And every day Bren give up everything, just on the chance that Trent will be pleased..._

_(Excellent work, as I hoped.)_

_I will be perfect._

_His teacher smiles, and looks at him, and gently disengages the knife from his hand._

_“Well done, my boy.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fisherman with his gear  
> Came to stand on the bank  
> And watched with cold blood  
> As the little fish weaved here and there.  
> But as long as the water remains clear,  
> I thought, no worry,  
> He’ll never catch the trout  
> With his hook.
> 
> Translation of Die Forelle, by Schubert.


	14. The Interlude (Mollymauk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I got a goldmine, it's all mine. Nobody can touch this gold of mine. Sweep through the brimstone, peek through the fire. Nobody can touch this gold of mine_
> 
> [Goldmine](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=zDgDkCdrqFg), by Kimbra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if it’s enough to concern anyone, but this chapter mentions sensations of Depersonalization, and Self Harm.

_The place breathes of memories. But not the right kind._

_This is just fear. Old, stale, long ago. Fear and loss. Reaching for a face you don’t remember, listening for a voice fallen silent. The dissonance of a body that isn’t yours._

_“Are you getting anything?” She murmurs attentively._

_(Gone.)_

_It’s hard to answer her._

_(I don’t belong here)._

_Hard to think._

_(This isn’t mine)._

_Hard to articulate anything through the sudden intense dysphoria that turns his stomach._

_Not his stomach. A stomach. It doesn’t belong to him. Displacement and confusion, as suddenly everything is foreign. Not his hands, not his feet, not his face._

_(I don’t belong)._

_“Molls...” Yasha says, as the body doubles over next to her._

_“I might...fuck...” it’s hard to talk. Using someone else’s skin. “Might need a minute.”_

_“Do you need anything?” Her hand settles on one arm._

_It’s suddenly disgusting. Her hand touching someone else’s arm, someone else’s body. Stop touching him. Touch Me, talk to Me._

_(He’s not me)._

_The arm she touches shoves her away. It helps, but not much._

_“Damn it,” he says through the Not His Voice. “I thought I was over this.”_

_And he really did. It’s been so long. Since the old discomfort, the old disconnect between body, and a soul that doesn’t belong in it._

_“You don’t feel right?” Yasha inquires, knowing exactly what he’s speaking of._

_She was there, in the early days, when it was the worst._

_In the early days it was all he could think about, the discomfort of not having something Yours. Old scars, deeper, darker cuts than the ones that bring his gifts to the surface. There are older scars, where a lost voice tried so hard to cut itself free, carving foreign flesh away._

_Yasha protected him a lot back then. Protected the body._

_“I might throw up..” Molly confides, watching the body breathe unevenly, like a trapped spectator in a play._

_“Do you...want to turn back?”_

_“No!” Molly snaps vehemently. “I’m gonna fucking do this.”_

_He straightens, and guides the body forward the last few feet. Into the center of the small clearing._

_It’s so vivid. Images of old memory and terror that assaults his mind. Silver moonlight, where the clouds rolled away. Further back is earth, bitter dirt in his mouth. Choking on gravel, clawing for air he can’t find. And farther back...he reaches...searches desperately. Past the moon, past the vomiting, past the choking dirt...past the grave..._

_And there’s nothing there._

_Just an empty void. As he stands over the edge of his grave, and reaches for a Before. All he finds is Nothing, broken by the jagged awakening of Something. Consciousness appearing like a lit flame, with only blackness stretching before._

_Objectively he can know that isn’t what really happened. Fully grown tieflings, don’t just pop out of the ground like tulips. But the emptiness feels so real, that no matter how much he tells himself he had a before, he can’t make it feel real._

_He just didn’t exist, until suddenly he did._

_“Getting anything?”_

_The body shakes it’s head. “Nothing.”_

_What the hell is he supposed to do with Nothing?!?_

_This was meant to give him answers. A direction to move. Something from Before, to guide him. A thread to pull, that would lead to the unraveling tapestry of his Past._

_Now he’s got nowhere to go._

_He knows that’s not really the dilemma that lies before him. It’s only what he’s told Yasha. But really, it’s something much deeper._

_He’s got No One._

_That’s the truth of it. The thing he didn’t say out loud. He hasn’t come back here to find a Past, but a Person, the old tenant of this body._

_Because even after all this time, he’s still searching for Him: the one who he isn’t, that came before._

_(He’s not me. Where did he go? I want him back.)_

_And now there’s only silence, where he wanted a voice, and he can’t even remember what the voice sounded like._

_(I can’t even remember him.)_

_He’s just stuck, with a body that isn’t his, and a past he can’t become again. The grave bars the way, like an iron door, that seals the thoughts of the past from the person of the present. There are no roads back, and no indication of where to take the future._

_(It’s that simple then.)_

_“What now?” Yasha questions._

_(He’s gone.)_

_“Hell if I know.”_

_(Fuck him.)_

_He kicks a stray pebble back into the grave at his feet. It’s only a shallow divot in the ground now. A green little dell, of moss and forest flowers, blooming in the middle of the field. Nature, with its persistence, bringing new Life out of old Death._

_(Just like me.)_

_“He’s gone.” Molly says, and it’s dizzying how real it becomes, when he speaks it out loud. “I don’t even know who the fuck he was, but he’s gone.”_

_“Yeah. I guess so.” Yasha agrees stoically._

_“I don’t know where the fuck I came from, or where the fuck I’m going,” he continues, solidifying his thoughts with words. “But I’m not him. He’s gone, and I’ve got the body now...so fuck him...”_

_He tilts his head back to the sky, feeling light enough to suddenly take flight. He wishes it were night time, wishes the moon were out. So that he could share it with her._

_“It’s as simple as that.” He realizes aloud. “I’ve got the body now, and I don’t have to know what the fuck I’m gonna do with it. It’s just Mine now, and I’m gonna do whatever the hell I want with it. He doesn’t need it any more.”_

_“I guess that’s that then,” Yasha states, when he turns to look at her._

_“We can go now.” Molly says._

_And they do._

_“Are you glad you came?” She asks, as they trudge homeward._

_“I’m done waiting.” He answers, “for him to come back, or for me to become him.”_

_”Alright,” Yasha says stoically._

_“I’ve got his body, it’s mine now, and I’m going to act like it.” He holds out his hand, and looks at it, clawed fingers and all. “Maybe I’ll get a tattoo or something. If it’s my body, I get to make it look however the fuck I want...and I like colors...”_

_“Sounds like a good idea.” Yasha nods, and adds with a shrug, “maybe I’ll come with you.”_

_Molly answers with a wordless gasp of invigorated excitement._

_“I’m NOT getting anything huge. You can go crazy.”_

_“Get something on your face! It would look so fucking badass.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this concludes Molly’s interlude. As our favorite rainbow tiefling continues to move upward from here, I thought this was the best moment to end on for him. Caleb will be finished in a couple of days, and then it will be back to the main story :D


	15. The Interlude (Caleb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Doch endlich ward dem Diebe_   
>  _Die Zeit zu lang._   
>  _Er macht das Bächlein tückisch trübe,_   
>  _Und eh’ ich es gedacht_   
>  _So zuckte seine Rute_   
>  _Das Fischlein zappelt dran,_   
>  _Und ich mit regem Blute_   
>  _Sah die Betrog’ne an._
> 
> [Die Forelle](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=pznaAzzB_xg), by Schubert.
> 
> Translation available in end notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this concludes Caleb (Bren’s) Past! The main story will be returning as soon as I can get a new chapter together, so keep on the lookout for that my friends! <3

_“Bren, my boy, I need to talk with you.”_

_Obediently he follows Trent Ikithon into the man’s office. The room is familiar, darkly paneled with bookshelves, and his teacher’s large desk._

_The flood of primal apprehension and creeping vulnerability up his spine is equally familiar._

_Like holding your hand in the mouth of a bear trap, waiting for it to close on you. He’s shivering already, struggling with panic that roils up his spine. The air of the room seems thin, cloying, hard to breathe._

_“How did you find your family, young Bren?” Ikithon inquires lightly, sitting behind his desk, and watching as his student shrinks fearfully in the center of the room. “I hope they’re well?”_

_“Yes sir,” Bren says, finding his voice through the persistent fear in his lungs._

_“I’m glad to hear it,” Trent says, not sounding at all sincere._

_“They wanted me to thank you. For all your kindness to me. To all of us. You really have done so much for me, and they’re grateful.” Bren smiles, glad to speak well of his family._

_“They’re good people, your mother and father…”_

_“I’m glad you think well of them, sir.”_

_“Good and faithful citizens of the Empire,” Trent continues, as if he isn’t listening to Bren’s words. “Simple folk, that gladly support the institution keeping them safe. Yes?”_

_“Yes they are, sir,” and even as he agrees, Bren struggles to understand where Trent’s words are leading._

_“So, you, tell me.” Trent says slowly, with a sharpened smile Bren doesn’t understand._

_The Master is out of his chair, before Bren can react. He crosses the room as rapidly as a snake, striking some pray, making Bren jump. And then his hand is on the back of Bren’s neck, pulling him in closer, and his chest seizes up. Adrenaline, and helplessness forcing him into freezing. Trapped with nowhere to run._

_Alone with Trent._

_“But let me tell you the truth about your parents.” Trent Ikithon says, voice carefully soft and melodic._

_Trent snaps his fingers in front of Bren’s face._

_For a second it feels like falling. Like striking the ground, with an intense burst of pain at the back of his head. And he knows it’s familiar, knows it’s happened before. Knows he has to fight back._

_And then it’s just…calm…All the fear gone, all the apprehension, all the distrust. Just a pure blind faith, as he gazes up into his master’s face. Seeing, hearing, knowing nothing but Trent._

_“I’m the truth, Bren.” Trent asserts, and it’s not a question. “You’re going to believe everything I say.”_

_Bren wholeheartedly agrees. Trent would never lie to him._

_“You’re going to remember your parents very differently from now on.” the elderly voice in his ear asserts, and Bren listens devotedly. “You remember waking up in the middle of the night.”_

_(His bed forms in his mind, so vivid, he can remember lying in it.)_

_“You wanted water.”_

_(He was so thirsty)._

_“While you were awake, you overheard your parent’s voices, talking when they should have been asleep.”_

_(He can overhear his father’s voice. Not the words, it’s too far away. His mother too. She’s softer, gentler. But their sound is wrong. Too late at night, too secretive.)_

_“You listened to what they were saying. And you’re going to remember the hate in it. They’re plotting against the empire.”_

_(He listens. Listens at the top of the stairs, and wishes he couldn’t. His own family. These people he loves. They’re betraying the empire. Betraying him.)_

_He sobs. He doesn’t want to listen anymore. This is hard to hear._

_(It’s disgusting. They’re disgusting. His own father and mother, lying to him. Just like all the other filthy cutthroats, slandering their homeland with hatred. And it’s his own family. Shame fills him, like a poison choking him alive. Tainted with their filthy words, responsible for their sin.)_

_“After listening to them, you went back to your bed.” Trent’s voice continues inexorably._

_(He’s fighting the urge to cry, as he slips back under the blankets. Guilty. Guilty, and so, so betrayed.)_

_“And now, you know what your parents truly are.”_

_Bren chokes on the guilt, as he becomes aware of the room around him again. The power in Trent’s voice fades. Fear reasserts itself, clenching like a vice around Bren’s chest._

_“I know they’re good people, because they’ve produced such an upstanding citizen of the empire in their own son.” Trent says warmly, clasping Bren’s shoulders as he speaks._

_Bren can hardly hear, he’s so lost within himself._

_(They’re not good people. He knows their secret now.)_

_“Together, we have established a small measure of justice in the world,” Trent’s praises fall hollowly. “I’m sure they would be proud of you. Punishing rebels and deviants as they truly deserve.”_

_(My own parents are traitors)._

_He flushes guiltily, aching with shame. He can’t even look Trent in the face. But his teacher is so busy praising him, the man doesn’t even notice. Or if he does, he says nothing about it._

_“As every good citizen would, you are willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of your country, and that is a praiseworthy thing.” Trent murmurs, with a cruel smile that Bren—with his eyes fixed on the carpet—doesn’t see. “As I’m sure your mother and father would agree, and imitate.”_

_Finally the teacher releases Bren’s shoulders. Leaving him cold, and shivering. Crushed alive into a bloody pulp, under the burden of the shameful secret he knows now._

_“I’m glad to hear their message.” Trent finishes, with a sharpness that says the discussion is over. “You may go now, my boy.”_

_“Yes sir.” Bren says already turning to leave._

_Trent Ikithon’s voice interrupts him before he can move._

_“We’ll resume your studies again tomorrow,” he says carelessly. “Prepare me a ten minute recitation on the Theory of Evocation In Universal Scale, to be given after breakfast.”_

_“Yes sir,” Bren barely manages to stammer._

_And stumbles out of the room._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But finally, for the thief,  
> Time seemed to pass too slowly.  
> He made the little brook murky,  
> And before I thought it could be,  
> So his line twitched.  
> There thrashed the fish,  
> And I, with raging blood,  
> Gazed on the betrayed one.
> 
> Translation of Die Forelle, by Schubert


	16. Guidance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Tonight I'm gonna sit with you, while all of the lines are blurring. Tonight I'm gonna fit with you, while the L.A. skies are burning. When I get afraid I shut down, look for a way to run around the truth. But baby tonight I wanna be with you. Gonna show you a side you never knew._
> 
> [Black Sky](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=bKj0F7K6zI4), by Kimbra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wtf have I done.
> 
> HOLY SHIT. 
> 
> Enjoy your mammoth of content everybody, I couldn’t fucking find a way to split it up.

The tiefling stopped Caleb in his bedroom door, on the way to sleep. The flick of his tail winding around the wizard’s wrist, arresting Caleb in the hallway of the little inn they were staying in.

Such little touches were familiar by now. Caleb didn’t even flinch, just huffed out a reluctant laugh, and turned around. With a flirty grin, Molly leaned up against the door post, hovering close in front of Caleb’s body.

“Can I come in?” The tiefling murmured carefully.

Suddenly guarded, Caleb frowned, and asked “why?”

“Because, dear,” Molly explained in a purr, “I’m clingy. And I want to cuddle you.”

The wizard’s eyebrows went up, glancing shrinkingly at Molly’s face, as if the wizard was trying to parse out a riddle. Molly kind of hated it. How surprised Caleb was, how wary. As if someone wanting to treat him well was a miracle to be suspicious of.

“What...what about Nott...” Caleb protested feebly.

“Come on sweetheart, this is a prime moment,” Molly urged. “The girls are all out on a drinking night, so they probably won’t be back until the morning, and they’ll be completely trashed if they do. My bets are on Jester getting them all arrested while they’re out, anyway.”

Caleb was still reluctantly looking at the floor, shuffling guiltily back and forth. It was body language that Molly found painfully familiar. He was well acquainted with Caleb’s nervous avoidance by now. Piecing together the reason for Caleb’s discomforts was always more difficult to do, and at the moment Molly was struggling.

“You seem uncomfortable with it,” Molly said, head tilted on one side. “If it’s too much, we’ll forget I said anything. You’re not obligated to spoon with me, darling.”

“ _Nein_!’ Caleb said too quickly, then mumbled shrinkingly, “I do want to. Just hard to...say it...”

“Wonderful.” The tiefling chirped, before Caleb could loose his nerve, pushing the door open and guiding them both into the room.

Leaving Caleb by the door, Molly immediately pulled his shirt over his head. Allowing the fabric to pool across the floor.

“Are we—“ Caleb stammered, flushing nervously, “were you picturing us...naked...”

“Why? Not feeling comfortable with that?” Molly probed, glancing over his shoulder, as he laboriously began to unlace his boots.

The wizard mutely shook his head.

“Well I wasn’t going to wear a sweaty shirt to bed, but you can keep whatever clothes you want, dear, I don’t care.” The tiefling carelessly recounted.

For a moment he watched Caleb struggle with himself, and then Molly turned back to his boots, giving the wizard a moment’s privacy.

“These fuckers are gonna take a minute,” Molly said, “you might want to get comfortable while you wait for me.”

Pretending not to listen, Molly traced the sounds of Caleb moving over to the bed. Then the dull thunk of his books hitting the floor, and the rustle of clothing. Before the bed creaked, and Caleb’s movements gave way to silence.

Finally Molly’s boots came off, and the tiefling straightened with a sigh of relief. Caleb was waiting, cross legged on the bed, nervously fisting his hands in his lap. The boy had removed his coat, looking weirdly small and stick like without it. Sometimes it was so easy to forget how rail thin Caleb was, with how much the coat gave him bulk. Molly savagely reminded himself to make the wizard eat more.

As if Nott didn’t already pester Caleb enough.

“D’you want to hold me? Or should I hold you?” Molly inquired with carefully crafted sterile interest, pausing at the edge of the bed while his tail whipped restlessly

It was best to talk about intimacy like a business transaction. Caleb found it more comfortable.

Caleb glanced shrinkingly up at the tiefling’s face, as if suddenly struck by the power difference in their positions. Then he shakily exhaled a trembling sigh, and forced his shoulders to uncoil.

“You hold me.” He muttered guiltily, unfolding his legs and making room on the bed.

“Perfect,” Molly hummed as they settled.

The wizard stiffly allowed himself to give in against Molly’s grip, and Molly much more shamelessly contoured himself against the wizard’s frame. Until they were settled, with a very brittle little spoon shrinkingly giving into the grip of an extremely clingy big spoon. With his arms around Caleb’s shoulders, and Caleb’s heat pressed against his chest, Molly shivered with enjoyment.

This, quite apart from everything Molly wanted but couldn’t have, was something he could get used to. He liked the closeness of it, the trust. Caleb was allowing himself to soften. It made Molly dizzy, lightheaded with all the trust and intimacy that was placed in his lap.

“Thank you darling,” the tiefling drawled lazily, in a relaxed version of his usual constant flirty banter.

“You are very warm...” Caleb’s voice drifted over his shoulder. He sounded a little stiff, struggling against embarrassment, but he hadn’t pulled away from Molly’s clinging grip.

That, Molly reflected, in the light of all the ugliness he knew about Caleb’s past, was a bit of a miracle already.

“So I’ve been told,” Molly said, a smirk hanging on his voice. “Tieflings run hot.”

He felt clingy, as eager for touch as a very demanding cat. So he shuffled in closer, allowing his nose to brush the back of Caleb’s neck, and slinging one arm over Caleb’s torso, so he could use it to hold his skittish little spoon in place, while he pressed his stomach forward into Caleb’s back. That was much better.

“I think I like it...” Caleb mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard.

And one candle wasn’t much to see by, but it was enough for Molly to distinguish some color. Certainly enough for him to catch the pink flush that rose up Caleb’s neck as soon as he’d admitted his enjoyment. Well wasn’t that just adorable...

Gods, Caleb was so fucking cute, it actually hurt.

“That’s good.” Molly replied, clinging to the ache in his chest as he watched the blush across Caleb’s neck. One more thing he could have praised, but knew would never be believed. “In fact that’s very good, because I don’t know how to turn it off.”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb mumbled absently, “well I don’t mind...”

The flush of blood had faded, and Molly allowed his face to nuzzle against Caleb’s neck. He hummed again, and the hum had almost turned into words when he caught himself and bit his lip, closing his eyes in an effort to relax. But that just made him focus on Caleb’s smell, the spicy heat of it, as if the acrid haze of smoke was always drifting around the wizard’s skin. Smelling Caleb wasn’t helping either, and Molly huffed as he turned his eyes toward the ceiling.

The tiefling was starting to realize that this position might be a bit compromising. It was too close, and words were pressing insistently against Molly’s lips, as if his enjoyment needed an outlet. And the longer they rested like this, the louder his inner voice became, demanding to be shaped and shared.

It ached, because it wasn’t enough. Words might be enough to stave off the tide, but they couldn’t hide the truth from him forever. Because he knew exactly what he wanted. Caleb was stunning, and every tiny muscle in Molly’s body wanted him.

They were too close, and Molly really, really wanted to fuck.

He’d wanted sex for ages. It wasn’t a surprise, and probably he should have anticipated this little problem. Too much skin contact meant trouble. But having the door closed didn’t help, or make him any less eager, even if his mind knew better. That was beyond the line, but grass was always greener outside the fence, and Molly couldn’t switch his dick off anymore than he could make his body cool down.

Pulling away made Molly’s body almost scream, every tiny cell protesting the deprivation with a silent microscopic shriek, but at the moment Molly’s Brain was still driving. This was already a miracle as it was, Caleb’s trust was hanging by a thread, and Molly was determined not to let an unexpected hard on ruin it. So he scooted his hips backwards, until his little...situation...was safely out of Caleb’s reach.

Now he just had to contain himself until tomorrow, when he could vent his arousal in private. And Caleb wouldn’t ever have to face the exposure of his body being desired.

“Mollymauk?” Caleb murmured, his hair scratching against the pillow as he tilted his head back in Molly’s direction.

“Mmm!” The tiefling hummed a little too brightly, caught off guard, and pulled out of his thoughts unexpectedly.

“I just wanted to check on you...” Caleb said shyly, his voice shaking on the edge of a stammer. “You just seem very restless. If this is getting uncomfortable for you, we can stop—“

“No!” Molly snapped. It was too quick, too sharp, too unguarded.

Caleb flinched, shrinking into himself, and seeing him wilt made Molly itch with the desire to bite his own tongue out. Dammit, dammit, he couldn’t do that. Not with fragile little Caleb.

“I didn’t mean to criticize you. I do like this.” Caleb stammered, struggling explain himself quickly enough, and repair the breach.

Another unrestrained reaction pushed at Molly’s mouth, hearing that, but he reigned it back just in time. Catching hold of his tongue, as he heart shattered around the realization of what Caleb was saying. He was placing all the blame upon himself, as if his innocent concern had somehow insulted Molly.

And here he was, apologizing when it was Molly that held the blame.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Molly explained more gently, pressing in to wind his arms more firmly around Caleb’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so sharp.”

“But, if you want to sleep...”

“No, no, I don’t want that.” He reassured, careful now to keep his voice measured and soft, with no hint of hostility or strong emotion to make his words seem accusatory. “This is nice.”

“It just seemed like you were restless...”

“Nothing’s wrong, it was just...my problem...you didn’t do anything.” Molly said, carefully avoiding any direct mention of the desire he’d been wrestling. “I don’t want you to leave. This is nice, and I like it.”

“If you’re sure...” Caleb mumbled, still clearly unconvinced.

“I’m sure.”

Caleb didn’t say anything, but the stiffness lingered in his shoulders. They were both silent for several long minutes, and Molly carefully allowed his breathing to relax, leading by example. And slowly, under the influence of the silence, and Molly’s own apparent composure, Caleb’s shoulders began to unwind.

“So ya do like this then?” Molly carefully probed, resolved to be extra cautious with the breakable man in his care.

“ _Ja_ , I do like it.” Caleb said, much more straightforward on his second confession, then his voice got softer as embarrassment returned. “You are very warm and...that feels _gut_...”

“Well thank you, darling...” Molly said smugly.

Caleb was blushing again, and Molly was still just as obsessed with it.

The pink across Caleb’s neck, the blush coating his voice, were all screaming for attention. Molly was struggling against the desire to readjust his leggings, which would inevitably lead to touching himself, considering his current disadvantaged position. The situation made him huff with discomfort, which turned into a laugh at himself, and he knew Caleb would take all of this the wrong way again, if he didn’t come up with an excuse for himself quick.

“D’ya know, I think you run a little hot yourself?” Molly teased lightly, snuggling in to breathe the rest of his sentence against Caleb’s neck, before he realized how damn sexual that proximity was and he resisted the urge to slap himself. “I like it too...”

“You do?” Caleb whispered. His voice cracked a little on those simple words, and Molly could already feel the tiny thread of tension coiling up the human’s spine, and cursed his own giddy carelessness for making Caleb uncomfortable again.

“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?” Molly said, carefully neutral, and trying somehow to scrub the rose colored haze of arousal out of his perception of this entire conversation. “I like you, pet, so of course I like being close to you.”

“You wouldn’t rather get some sleep...” a halfhearted provision, with none of Caleb’s real desire behind it.

He didn’t really want Molly to go, but Molly could understand exactly why he was still leaving the door open. Caleb was a complicated mess of walking contradictions. He was the kind of man that could face the dark of a tiny room, and feel claustrophobic in the most vastly empty spaces. Brave a fight to the death every fucking day, but still shrink in terror from emotional confrontation. Walk around with a library of knowledge inside his head, while smelling like a beggar that had slept in a sewer. Quite simply, Caleb’s mind and body didn’t know how to agree with each other.

And more than that, Caleb was in a roundabout fashion, trying to take care of Molly. Caleb was the kind of person that never felt truly safe without an available escape. Even if he never intended to use it, Molly could tell that the human chafed when there wasn’t a bolt hole available. Which more than anything else, made Molly realize that Caleb was offering Molly the comfort of an escape, that he himself would have been paranoid without.

“If you’re worried about me falling asleep, you don’t need to worry. I can pop off just fine.” Molly declared, closing his eyes, and allowing himself to relax as he claimed he could. It was nice, it was easy. Caleb felt warm, and his skin smelled nice, and Molly felt like he was floating in it. “You’re very comfortable.”

“ _Ja_...”

“In fact, I’d rather fall asleep with you here.” Molly said, drifting into a ramble with his eyes closed, and ignoring Caleb’s hesitant little monosyllable. In fact the tiefling’s tongue was running dangerously free. “I think you’ll make me have good dreams if I smell your skin while I fall asleep. You’ve got good smelling skin you know, and it’s soft, and just now when you blushed, it looked pretty...”

Caleb shuddered.

It brought Molly to a standstill with a jerk, suddenly becoming aware of his partner again. The human’s shoulders were hunching a little, and his breath sounded short. Dammit. Molly cleared his throat, bringing himself sharply back under control.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know that was...beyond the limit...”

“ _Nein_ ,” Caleb contradicted jerkily, speaking clumsily as if his tongue were glued to the roof of his mouth. Though really, considering his adversity to vulnerability, Caleb even speaking at all, was a bit of a miracle. “I do not mind actually...I-I think maybe I...I think I might...”

The human’s words were quickly dying, and Molly shouldered the burden for him. “You think you like it?”

“ _Ja_...” Caleb admitted. And he sounded so small, so guilty, and contrite as if he’d committed a crime, that Molly’s heart hurt. “S-so...so you can keep—“

He couldn’t finish. Shrinking from his request, this innocent little request, as if he’d done something wrong.

“So I can keep going?” Molly whispered gently.

Caleb shuddered again, but it didn’t startle Molly now, and the human gave a nod so small Mollymauk almost missed it.

“Well...then...” Molly said, as he weighed his words. But Caleb had said the praise was fine, so Molly allowed it to escape. “Then I guess, I like that your skin is warm. It’s warm, but in a nice way. Do you know, usually everything feels cold to me, because I’ve got such a temperature all the time...It’s a little annoying having everything you touch feel like ice cubes...so cuddling you is nice.” he laughed, squeezing his arms around Caleb’s shoulders. “Or maybe you’re just the kind of person that always feels good to hold.”

Caleb shivered again, but this time there was a gasp with it. Or on second thought, gasp wasn’t exactly the word. It was more like a tiny hitch of breath, soft and involuntary, hanging warm on the air. And that little breath caught at Molly’s concern once again.

“Are we still good here, sweetheart?” Molly murmured attentively.

“ _Ja_ , _ja_ , don’t—“ Caleb stammered, hurried and unguarded. “It feels good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Caleb’s voice was little more than a hiss. Another one of those soft heated breaths. Which itched, because Molly was starting to realize that it sounded familiar, and he was determined to place the sound.

It sounded like...well...it sounded like the breath of a _moan_...

“Wait.” Molly said, pulling up short, as Caleb’s discomfort through this entire conversation suddenly morphed into a different light. “Is this...Caleb...darling, does this feel _sexual_ for you?”

Caleb whimpered at the question, physically curling into himself, like an exposed snail retreating into its shell. He rolled away from Molly, to hide his face against the pillow, knees drawing up towards his chest. He was shaking now, and another blush was crawling up his neck, but Molly didn’t enjoy it. The sound of Caleb choking on a sob outweighed any admiration Molly might have been tempted to feel.

“Molly—“ Caleb sobbed, his voice muffled by the pillow, and hardly loud enough to be heard. He shivered, curling inward as if he wanted to break out of his own skin. “I’m—I know—but I can’t—“

“Oh darling, you know I don’t mind if it is!” Molly reassured, trying to press every ounce of his own sincere enjoyment, into that statement. “I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that, but you have to know I don’t mind. If you enjoy it, you can tell me, and I won’t care a bit.”

“Molly—“ it was hardly a whisper, something pleading, and shrinking, and guilty all in the same breath. “I can’t.“

“Yes you can.” Molly contradicted gently, with the same quiet firmness that hardened his voice when he told Caleb to clean his plate, or take off his boots before bed, or light a candle instead of trying to read in the dark. “You can tell me what you like.”

No answer came to him. Only a dumb shake of Caleb’s head where he was hiding his face.

“I want to know if you like being praised.” Molly pressed. “You can tell me.”

Caleb mumbled something, but it was muffled by his hands and the pillow in his face, lost before Mollymauk could make it out. That was fine. Molly was willing to push a little.

“I only want to know,” Molly breathed, leaning in close to let the heat of his voice ghost along the back of Caleb’s neck again. “Because my words can make this beautiful body feel so much better, if I know that’s what they’re for...”

Caleb answered with a moan. It wasn’t a noisy thing, in fact it was barely loud enough to be heard. Something soft, and exposed, and full of desire, hanging sweetly on the still air. But it was the first time Mollymauk had heard such a sensual sound escape him. Pleasure was a thing Caleb shrank from, felt assaulted by, and he’d restrained himself adamantly until that exact moment.

And the sound of that softly hitching groan, made Molly bite his lip to keep from whimpering. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that was so damn sexy. Molly’s cock was throbbing to a wild burning rhythm, nearly dying for attention. He wanted to permanently burn that sound into his brain, for him to hoard up like treasure, and use as jerk off material for the rest of his life.

It took every ounce of Mollymauk’s will to relax his shoulder, and force himself to take two full breaths before he spoke again.

“That sounded like a yes to me...” Molly murmured fondly.

Even with all his effort, he couldn’t keep the heat of desire out of his voice, and Caleb could no doubt hear it, but somehow the fragile wizard had yet to draw away. He was breathing in quick little gasps that shook his shoulders, and still had his face buried in the pillow, but he had yet to draw away or call for a stop. Molly was cautious, and it felt a little cruel to push someone who was screaming _leave_ _me_ _alone_ with every fiber of his body except those that formed his voice, but Caleb had yet to say Stop. So Molly pushed, in spite of the fact that the invasion made his skin crawl.

“So ya do enjoy it then.” Molly growled, letting some of the harshness in his Devil’s Tongue with all the aggression taken out leech into his voice, leaning in just close enough to let his breath rush in Caleb’s ear. “You like hearing all about how good you are...”

“ _Ja_...” Caleb whimpered, and it was already more moan than coherent speech.

There were no holds, no walls, no disguises or pretentious now. Caleb was aroused, and both of them knew it; his voice reduced to something breathy, and vulnerable, and...if Molly could make himself believe it: just a little bit feminine. This was Caleb with his guard down, already naked without removing a single piece of his clothing, and it was Molly, Molly who got to see it all.

“Mmm, you like this?” Molly murmured, letting one hand drift over Caleb’s shoulder, a fingertip just swirling against the point.

“ _Ja_ , I like it.” Caleb breathed, warm and defenseless.

“Does it feel good?”

Caleb nodded wordlessly.

“Being called a...good boy....”

That probably wasn’t playing fair, but Molly needed to hear Caleb make that stifled little pleasure sound again, and he poured every drop of his seduction into that simple title, till it dripped like honey. And Caleb, beautiful, gorgeous, absurdly erotic Caleb, didn’t disappoint.

Molly’s carefully launched shaft made Caleb groan, stronger, deeper in his chest, and dip his hand down, on the edge of touching himself before his hand remembered itself with a jerk. He anchored that rebellious hand in the bedsheets instead, as if they were the only thing keeping him composed, and Molly hadn’t realized until now how intensely one could hate an inanimate piece of fabric. Until Caleb had pulled himself back, Molly had been obsessed with where that wandering appendage was heading.

“Can I get a color, sweet?” Molly said.

He let his hand drift from Caleb’s shoulder to find his face, calloused finger pads rasping through the stubble on the man’s cheeks. It was a slight touch, but Caleb chased after it as eagerly as a cat, pressing his cheek into Molly’s palm. His breath was coming ragged, and under his palm, Molly could feel how warm Caleb was. The poor boy was wrecked already.

“Green.” He whimpered against Molly’s palm, reaching up to cling one hand around the fingers that were stroking his face. “Green, Molly, green, green—”

With one finger Molly forced him to quiet again. It was so easy, so thoughtless, so natural to lead him. Both of them fell into a rhythm as easily as breathing.

“Can I kiss you right now, love?” Molly asked.

And usually that question would be a flirtation, a bit of a dare. Something whispered with a wink and a smirk in the darkness of back alleys and tavern corners. At this moment Molly felt something frighteningly genuine, the desire to kiss Caleb roiled through his veins, but more than anything was the desperate desire to make this something Caleb could remember and never have to shrink from. Molly wanted Caleb to feel safe.

A hum pushed against Mollymauk’s finger, as Caleb closed his eyes. And then the wizard shrinkingly kissed it. Only a fragile little touch, hardly more than an imperceptible shift in muscles, but the chapped yielding heat of his lips pressed against the pad of Molly’s index, and Molly bit off a whine in his throat. Caleb was getting bolder now. He kissed again, and this time it was firm. Then his lips suddenly parted, and a flicker of his tongue danced heated and slick across Molly’s finger, before he sucked the pad into his mouth.

That was as far as he got, before he shuddered, and jerked violently backwards. His breath had gone harsh, like sand in his lungs. Eyes blown black, with something fearful behind them, raking over the room as if he was struggling to see.

“Can’t—“ Caleb choked raggedly, squirming with a whine. “Can’t, I can’t, I can’t—“

“Shush...” Molly breathed, pressing his palm to Caleb’s forehead. “It’s alright, that’s why I asked. We won’t go there.”

It burned a bit, because Molly had—still did in fact—want to kiss. But that could wait. Caleb came first. Not until he was ready.

Under Molly’s palm the wizard went limp, as abruptly as a puppet being sliced away from it’s strings, and he breathed again. His hand squeezed Molly’s, and a smile twitched at the corner of Caleb’s mouth, where (in Molly’s opinion) smiles didn’t appear nearly often enough. Receiving Caleb’s trust like this, something so simple, and weirdly childlike in this sexually charged moment, made Molly push away the desire to kiss. Earning Caleb’s skittish breakable confidence was much better.

“Green.” Caleb’s voice broke the careful silence, and he squeezed Molly’s hand. It was just a simple word, but even Molly was coming to cling to that word like a lifeline.

“We’re still feeling good then?” Molly asked, and the way Caleb shuddered and hummed in the back of his throat, was enough to satisfy. “Can I keep sweet talkin’ ya, darling?”

That earned an immediate positive reaction from the wizard. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, his hand convulsively squeezed Molly’s, and he nodded vigorously. Definitely a _yes_ then...Molly pulled his face back to a blank, struggling to bury a mischievous grin...who knew his shy little Caleb would get off on dirty talk?

“Could I get a please, sweetheart?” Molly asked, voice gentling in spite of himself, though he preserved some of the flirtation, hopefully enough to make his question seem lighthearted and something that could be refused.

“Please.” Caleb immediately breathed, starting to squirm with frustration.

Molly couldn’t tell if it was conscious or not, but that one simple word had Caleb tilting his head back, exposing his throat. And that, in Molly’s opinion, definitely wasn’t playing fair. God’s he looked so good like that, and he didn’t even know it. With his throat bared, and his chest shaking through each breath, all warmth and submissive exposure. He was burning a hole through Molly’s breeches, without doing a goddamn thing.

“Mmmm, there we go,” Molly gasped, “you’re so good for me aren’t you?”

Judging by Caleb’s stifled little whine, good was exactly what he wanted to be.

But Molly’s arm, that had been propping him in a lounging position all this time, was starting to go to sleep. He needed to change positions. Pulling himself up, Molly slithered across the bed, and Caleb silently made room. Until Molly was perched on one of the pillows, sitting cross legged, with Caleb’s head in his lap. That was better.

“Can I touch your face?” Molly checked in, letting his hands hover above Caleb’s cheeks without touching.

“That is fine.”

“Shoulders?” As he scratched his fingers through Caleb’s stubble.

“ _Ja_ , _ja_ , Molly, any of it.” Caleb gasped. Then he groaned, a little stifled, like he was feeling sick, and shook his head as he back tracked. “No. Nothing below the waist.”

“I can do that.” Molly reassured. Then watched, as Caleb’s face twisted guiltily, and added. “I don’t mind, darling. Whatever you need to be safe, I’m happy with, and you’re not gonna disappoint me.”

“I don’t—I should—“ Caleb stammered incoherently, obviously uncomfortable, and pushing himself at the edge of something that shouldn’t be pushed.

“You shouldn’t have to do anything.” Molly said, almost too assertive, nearly aggressive. Before reminding himself to be careful, and specify that the blame never fell on Caleb. “You understand me, darling? No prices.”

“What...” and for a moment Caleb’s voice caught in his throat, before he mumbled with meek concern. “What about you?”

Mollymauk fought the desire to laugh, warm and affectionate, and it was startling because he’d never actually wanted to laugh during sex before.

Granted this was something more like verbal stimulation, but Molly still preened himself on a success, if Caleb felt safe enough to do this. That trust was more than enough to satisfy, and Molly couldn’t help but smile at Caleb’s clumsy concern. Of course he appreciated the attention, but if Caleb thought Molly could sit in this situation and not be enjoying himself, in the best kind of sexual way...well then Molly’s delightfully naive, considerate, just plain ignorant wizard needed to learn a thing or two about intimacy...Though really, that was already heartbreakingly true.

Molly frowned, and pushed that thought away, both the savagery and the sadness it inspired in him.

“What about me?” Molly echoed, concentrating on the feel of Caleb’s beard through his fingers instead. “Sweetie, I don’t think you really need to worry about that. I’m actually enjoying myself quite a bit.”

“You are?” God’s Caleb sounded so meek, so nakedly trusting, and Molly couldn’t deny to anyone, even himself, that he was definitely aroused by it.

Even if he’d tried to speak that particular lie, Mollymauk doubted anyone would believe him, after taking a peek in his trousers.

“Oh, I’m having a very good time right now,” Molly purred, his tail lashing smugly against the air. “Hearing you moan when I talk, and get aroused from listening to me, is...fuck...you really know how to get me off, pretty boy.”

Caleb groaned, his eyes fluttering shut, as he bit his lip to keep it in. That didn’t stop the sound from escaping though, and it was still one of, if not the most erotic thing Molly had ever heard.

“Fuuuck.” Molly keened helplessly, doubling over to awkwardly rest his forehead against Caleb’s mouth and nose.

A pair of chapped heated lips pressed against his forehead, and Molly broke into a stream of giddy laughter.

“Caleb, I’m so fucking hard right now, you don’t even know.” Molly said, with a chuckle. Then he abruptly changed tactics, sitting up a little, and breathing his words as seductively as he could. “You’d be able to feel me getting all hot and bothered, through my trousers, if you put your hand down there. You’ve got me very turned on.”

Another moan, stronger and more insistent, pressed against Caleb’s stifling restraint. But Molly had definitely seen a jerk in Caleb’s hips this time, twitching upwards in a tiny aborted grind against nothing. It made Mollymauk’s stomach drop out, the heated fission of desire roaring through his stomach, eyes locked onto Caleb’s groin.

And with that movement came an image, a split second fantasy as Molly indulged his imagination. He pictured the kind of aching heat that must be throbbing through Caleb’s cock at that moment, how hard and desperate for relief he must be, unconsciously searching for friction against empty air. Which was followed immediately by a vision of Mollymauk himself, of sinking down onto that cock while Caleb fingered him. Holy fuck, that was the most arousing fantasy Molly had ever experienced...

And he also needed to make Caleb climax as soon as humanly possible.

“I really hope that sound means you were thinkin’ about touching me,” Molly laughed, giddy and lightheaded. “Naughty boy: want’s to put his hands down my trousers.”

Somehow Caleb still had enough blood not centered around his dick for him to blush furiously, which was probably a bit of a miracle at this point, if Molly could accurately judge sexual tension all. (And he liked to think that he was a very accurate judge indeed). The wizard went a very fetching shade of red, choking on his own words, and Molly was very, very attracted by it.

“Oh, baby, don’t you worry, I fucking love it.” He breathed, pressing his hands on either side of Caleb’s face, and mouthing a series of slack jawed kisses across the wizard’s forehead. “I want you to. You’re gonna fantasize every dirty picture you can think of, and I’m gonna get off on it, because it’s so fucking sexy watching you want me.”

Molly’s mouth was pretty much running on autopilot at this point, filthy and unrestrained. He was too punch drunk on pleasure, and the dizzy consciousness that this was even happening, for him to spare a thought for holding his tongue. Good thing Caleb seemed to enjoy the vulgarity though, at least if his extremely heavy breathing and pleasure darkened pupils were anything to go by, because this would be awkward otherwise.

“What were you thinking then?” Molly hissed, grinning and letting himself go. He might not be able to do anything more than caress Caleb’s cheeks, and hover over his face, but that didn’t matter. Because fuck vanilla sex, Molly had a devil’s tongue, and he knew exactly how to use it. “Maybe you were thinking about how warm my cock would feel? It’s so hot, and hard, and it’s slick against your fingers. And you can feel me twitching, because I want your fingers inside me where it feels good, right where you can make me moan like a bitch with nothing but your fingers. Because that spot feels so good, it’s gonna make me come for you, when you touch it.”

“Molly—“ Caleb gasped, eyes almost black, one shaking hand flying up to cling around Molly’s for dear life.

“That’s right, let it out,” Molly praised, petting Caleb’s face. “You’re so good when you cry for me.”

“ _Nein_ —Mollymauk, I—“ Caleb said, incoherent and trembling, “I might—I can’t—Yellow. Molly, please, yellow—”

Hearing that color felt like being splashed with ice water when you were sleeping, and a large part of Molly was tempted to panic. What had gone wrong? It had all gone so smoothly, until he’d apparently taken it too far, and he still didn’t know what he’d done wrong. But this wasn’t red, he had to firmly remind himself. This wasn’t Red, wasn’t Stop, wasn’t Danger. This was just a pause and readjust. And if anyone needed to keep calm, it was Molly, or who on earth would Caleb have to turn to?

“How can I help you, darling?” Molly said lightly, pushing away everything but the calm rationality, and sitting up a little. “Are we starting to go wrong?”

“I’m not—“ Caleb gasped breathlessly. “I can’t keep going.”

“Is this a Red then?” Molly said gently, trying not to let Caleb hear it in his voice, as his heart cracked just a little. Because his body was stubborn, and it still wanted things. “You’re close to a bad head space?”

“ _Nein_ — _nein_ —Molly that’s not...” Caleb broke off, blushing deeply, before he mumbled. “I like it...too much...”

“Too much.” Molly repeated blankly.

“I don’t want—“ Caleb was struggling on the edge of words, that were wilting in his throat, so that when he finally spoke it was only a halting whisper. “I like it too much, and I will...take it too far...if you keep going. So I need to stop, before I do that.”

Okay, _now_ Molly was starting to get an idea what this was about...

“I’m sorry.” Caleb stated jerkily, voice mechanical and vacant. “You were being so kind...”

“So by ‘too far’,” Molly said in a gentle murmur, wracking his brains for a way to phrase his question without sounding condemning, and coming up with nothing. “Do you mean that you want to touch yourself...because of me?”

Caleb was hiding behind his hands and starting to shiver.

“That is not what I—“ the wizard choked, “I don’t know why I can’t just...You are being so kind, and I’m going to ruin it, because I’m so...such a...I’m sorry...”

“Shush,” Molly gentled carefully, “it’s nothing wrong, love.”

“I’m a disgusting person.” Caleb declared, voice wracked with a toxic mix of guilt and bitter venom.

“Caleb, I don’t mind—”

“I can’t even contain this one stupid little thing—“

“Caleb.” Molly said, voice hardening with the steel he was so reluctant to use on Caleb. But it worked. Gods damn all the reasons it did, but it worked. The human flinched, and went silent, brought sharply to attention. “I. Don’t. Mind...Understand?”

“Why?” Caleb asked, and he sounded so weak and confused, Molly’s heart ached. “It is so vulgar.”

“No, it is not vulgar to enjoy your body, or how it feels.” Mollymauk contradicted firmly, pressing his hands into Caleb’s chest, in an effort to ground the man. “Sexual pleasure is valid, and beautiful, and I want you to take it, if you want it. Okay?”

“Are we...” Caleb mumbled, hesitantly.

Gods bless this human’s heart. How could anyone be so smart, and yet so dumb?

“Yes, we are absolutely having sex right now, dear.” Molly said, carefully straightforward and honest. “Nobody will be touching anyone else’s parts, unless you want that. But you can rest assured that I am doing my very, very best, to make you do exactly what you’ve been thinking you shouldn’t do.”

“ _Ja_?”

“Oh yes, darling.”

“And you want me to...”

“If I’m being honest, love, I want you to put your hand down there, and touch yourself, until you spill from the sound of my voice in your ear.” Molly stated. Partly because Caleb needed the clarity, and partly because the dirty talk had been working wonders before, and Mollymauk wanted to see Caleb squirm.

“You want that?” Caleb said, voice little more than a breathless whisper, shifting against the mattress. Both his hands were gripping a white knuckled death grip into the nearest available anchors, one fisted in the bed sheets, and the other still viselike around Molly’s hand.

“Oh baby doll, I’ve been trying to make you come for me since I told you how hard I was, and teased you about feeling my dick through my clothes.”

Caleb sucked in a hissing breath through his teeth, body rolling up into another half formed grind against nothing.

“Which is an image that still apparently does it for you.” Molly teased gently.

“Your—hearing you talk about it was...that was really good...”

“Were you picturing it,” Molly asked, tilting his head on one side, “when I described it to you?”

“ _Ja_.” Small, a little tentative, but it wasn’t truly fearful.

“Would you like it, if I told you I was literally just describing how my dick felt at that particular moment?”

Caleb whimpered.

Actually whimpered, broken and high pitched in his throat. He sounded so raw and desperate, giving away in much stronger colors than his words, how worked up he really was. Molly moaned in response, feeling his cock jerk between his legs, as he arched his back to grind against the bed.

His leggings were definitely ruined.

“Fuck, I really hope you’re gonna let me make you come, because it’s gonna kill me if you don’t.” Molly gasped.

For a moment Caleb was silent, and Molly panicked as he thought he’d overstepped a line. Then he squeezed Molly’s hand, and mumbled “ _ja_ , I think I could let you do that.”

“If you’re green, darling. I don’t want to push you.”

“No, I think I want to.” Caleb admitted shakily. Then he huffed out a restless breath, and blushed, “I really, really want to.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Ja_.”

“Well okay then,” Molly purred, his tail beginning to lash again. “I’ll dirty talk you until you can’t think straight, dearest.”

A beat of weighted silence fell, then Caleb huffed out a breath of discomfort, and squirmed.

“Could you keep...talking?” He mumbled guiltily. “I can’t—I need help.”

“Of course, darling, no worries,” Molly said, abruptly snapping into his role. He grinned with sharply pointed fangs, and let his tail whip, like a cat playing with a mouse. “I was just admiring the view.”

Red hair rasped against Molly’s fingers, as he stroked Caleb’s cheeks. It was rough, and he admired the subtle burn of it. Caleb had sharp cheekbones. There had been a time when they looked gaunt, a little skull like, but he’d gained weight since those days. Now the pointed bones had a healthy layer of flesh over them, and the shape was softened to something less starved looking.

“Caleb, my boy, you are a very beautiful man.” Molly said, pushing Caleb to tilt his face, so Molly could press a kiss to the point where the human’s cheekbones met his hairline. He didn’t push with his tongue, but he let the kiss linger, and growled his next words in Caleb’s conveniently exposed ear. “I’m going to completely ruin you, my pretty, pretty boy.”

A subtle tremble ran through Caleb’s body, washing over him almost imperceptibly. Molly felt the shift, and it sent heat plunging through him. It was a feeling of power, of possession, holding the reigns with absolute control. Like Caleb was soft wax, he could easily mould into a new shape.

“You liked the sound of that, didn’t you...” Molly teased, gently nipping at Caleb’s ear with his teeth. “Am I making you hard yet?”

It was a rhetorical question, of course Caleb was feeling overwhelmed and horny. But it was the attention Molly wanted, pushing Caleb focus on himself, his own brewing need. The conscious act of thinking about it would inevitably make the human more sensitive, as his mind was dragged downwards.

“You’re probably hard as fuck, under your clothes where I can’t see.”

Caleb groaned sharply, shuddering hard, and his hips jumped off the bed. No denying or hiding it now, his lower body had twitched. And Molly for one, was obsessed with it. God’s the wizard was so responsive, Molly couldn’t get enough of it.

“I want you to show me.” Molly said, on a snap decision, letting his eyes zero in on Caleb’s groin.

He felt more than heard Caleb moan at the attention, and pretended not to notice the way Caleb’s hips tilted up to present himself. It was making Molly incredibly horny though, and he struggled to keep it out of his voice, as he kept speaking. “Caleb, darling, I want you to use your hand, and cup your cock through your clothes, so I can see how stiff you are.”

“Molly—“

“Chop chop darling, you know I want to admire you.” He scolded gently, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Caleb’s waist, and looking back down at Caleb’s face.

One of Caleb’s hands disengaged, finally releasing his white knuckled grip. He turned a little pink under Mollymauk’s eyes on his face, but the embarrassment didn’t stop him from obeying, and Molly watched breathlessly. As Caleb carefully reached down, pressing one shaky hand into the bulge of his erection.

He whimpered as soon as he did it, thready and desperate, at the flood of stimulation running through him. As soon as his hand brushed his groin, his hips rose up for a decisive grind against his hand, moving with a mind of their own, and he choked on the release of it. Molly shot his hand out, to press down firm and controlling on Caleb’s stomach, as low as he dared reach without crossing Caleb’s line.

“No.” The tiefling commanded inflexibly. “I haven’t told you to do that yet.”

Molly could tell it clawed at Caleb’s insides to obey, but somehow the wizard managed it. Under the weight of Molly’s hand, and Molly’s displeasure, Caleb’s pelvis came back to the bed. Breathing heavy and erratic, eyes blown dark and needy, he obediently kept his hand still. And Molly thrilled with it, lightheaded with gently woven power.

Grinning with a flash of pointed canines, Molly allowed himself to indulge, and looked down at Caleb’s hand. Under the frame of his fingers, the shape of Caleb’s erection was clearly visible, fully hardened and eager. It wasn’t the filthiest thing Molly had ever seen. Of all the cocks and cunts and many things in between, seeing the shape of Caleb’s still fully clothed dick would be considered laughably tame. But that didn’t stop it from being the most erotic thing Molly had ever witnessed. Because Caleb looked nothing less than breath taking.

The way Caleb was holding himself, looked strangely like a gift. Like he was presenting himself, exposed in hand, for Molly’s approval. As if his body was something that belonged to Molly, for the tiefling to take or ignore as he pleased, or admire for as long as he wanted. Caleb was giving himself.

Molly bit his lip, close to bleeding, as he fiercely reigned in all the things he wanted to say. While Caleb, the poor, sweet, innocent boy, whined through his teeth, at Molly’s attention. And Molly got to watch as Caleb’s cock jumped.

“That looks so good, sweetheart.” Molly praised, once he’d gotten his footing back. He ran his fingers through Caleb’s beard again, and easily dropped back into the task of teasing his human. “I could sit here and admire you all day I think. Just sit here, and watch you ache for me.”

Caleb bit his lip, brows contracting into a frown, and a shudder ran down the length of his body.

“Oh don’t worry, darling, I’m not really going to do that.” Molly teasingly reassured. “I’m going to make you feel so good, and reward you like the beautifully good boy you are. If you think your ready for it?”

Caleb nodded, the tiniest little movement, but Molly wanted to growl with satisfaction.

“You wanna touch yourself, sweet one?”

“ _Ja_...” Caleb admitted with a blush.

“Can I hear you say please?” Molly growled.

“Please.” Caleb said, voice something close to a whimper, inadvertently circling a tiny grinding motion into his palm, before he caught himself a stilled again.

“Go right ahead then, darling,” Molly replied, his voice gentling to a purr, as his tail swished behind him. “Touch yourself for me.”

With a little gasp that was probably relief, Caleb let go of his restraint. His hips jumped up from the bed, circling into his palm, and he ground shakily against his hand. Molly wanted to moan with him, watching the delightful hedonism of Caleb enjoying himself. Then Molly spotted the dark wet mark beginning to soak through Caleb’s clothing, and heat roared through the tiefling’s body as his mouth watered.

He wanted that dick down his throat, heavy and burning, Caleb taking his pleasure as Molly worshiped on his knees.

That was a picture for another day, something that might come later, but the sparkle of warmth traveling down Mollymauk’s spine was a much closer pleasant result. For a moment or two that gentle ache was enough to distract him, and when he came back to himself, it sparked a feeling of concern. Caleb wasn’t taking himself any further, even though the muffled sensation of a hand behind clothing wasn’t enough to push him over. He was waiting. Frozen.

Oh dear...the poor boy needed help didn’t he...

“That’s very beautiful darling, you look so good.” Molly praised, then reached down, and pressed a restraining hand into Caleb’s stomach, pressing him back against the bed. “And down again.”

A huff pushed past Caleb’s lips, clear discomfort brewing in his body at the denial. But Mollymauk could read the release in his shoulders too, as anxious tension faded, and Caleb relaxed in comfortable territory. Denial was familiar, it had a pattern Caleb could follow.

Sometimes Molly hated being correct in his assumptions about this beautifully fragile man.

“Darling, I just want to ask,” Molly murmured carefully, “have you ever done this before?”

Mutely Caleb shook his head, hunching down into his shoulders a little bit at the vulnerable confession. “Not for a long time...” he said, words finally coming in a whisper. “I didn’t want to...”

“You just didn’t enjoy it or...?”

“Made think of _him_.” Caleb choked, rushed and hurried, as if he was fighting to speak the words at all.

“Then I think it’s important to be absolutely clear, sweet boy,” Molly said firmly. “You do want it _now_.”

“ _Ja_.” Caleb declared, voice trembling but firm. “I want to take it from Him. This is mine...”

“Alright, we can do that, I just wanted to be clear.” Molly said with a gentle smile, cupping Caleb’s cheeks. “Then I think, darling, I might want to talk you through it...would that be helpful?”

Caleb released a shuddering breath, nodding vigorously, and leaning his cheek into Molly’s palm. It was a simultaneous feeling of power and fear, that roared through Molly’s blood. The wizard was giving himself, offered up for Molly to teach and guide. But at the same time, it put all of the human’s comfort, pleasure, and safety, squarely onto Molly’s shoulders. For a moment, that was a heavy burden. And then he grinned.

Mollymauk Tealeaf considered himself the reigning champion of masturbation.

“Well then, lets pull you back a bit.” Molly purred, “we’ll work you up to it.”

For a moment Caleb hesitated, still eager, and slow to comprehend. Just as adorable as ever.

“Take your hand off your dick.” Mollymauk commanded clearly.

Caleb obeyed, with a snap to his movements as if his body had burned him. Bringing his hand back to the wrinkled sheets, he gripped down a white knuckled fist, and his eyes had gone dark in a way that meant a job well done. Watching the wizard breathe, shallow and heated, sent a twin ache of heat and desire through Molly. As his cock ached beneath his leggings, and his heart gripped tight with an accompanying pain beneath his ribcage.

This poor, pretty, patient boy...

“Caleb, darling, I’m going to teach you the right way to love yourself,” Mollymauk said with dangerous confidence.

“Show me your ways, great sensei,” Caleb choked, with surprising humor under the circumstances.

“Shush, I’m teaching right now,” Molly chided, with no real annoyance. “You see, darling boy, the way to really make yourself feel good, is to make yourself want it.”

Caleb nodded mutely.

“You think you want it?”

Caleb unapologetically whined in the back of his throat.

“You clearly don’t want it as much as you will. We can take you farther.” Tilting his head to the side, Molly considered his partner. “Tell me, dear, have you experimented with this?”

“ _Nein_ ,” Caleb confided, which Molly could have guessed, but it made his heart ache anyway. “I was...just a teenager before...”

“And you wanked yourself off as fast as possible, I’m sure.” Molly finished.

The wizard blushed, and gave a tiny nod.

“That’s how I used to be, dearest,” the tiefling confided with shameless honesty. “It really was ridiculous, how often I touched myself in the space of a week. I was pretty much addicted.”

Caleb laughed, and it wasn’t more than a chuckle, but the sound of it filled Molly with warmth. A very welcome confirmation that the wizard did feel comfortable enough to laugh.

“I want you to unbutton your shirt, darling.” Molly commanded, once Caleb’s laugher had faded.

The wizard’s breath shortened at that command. But he obeyed without signs of any more substantial discomfort than a vague embarrassment at revealing himself. His hands were so shaky, that Molly had to help him with the last two buttons. Until finally, the wizard was laid out, partially exposed with his shirt brushed apart. Chest stuttering through each unsteady breath, as he waited for Molly’s words.

“Now I want you to let go of the sheet, and I want you to touch your chest. Just lightly, with your fingertips.”

“My chest...” the wizard repeated slowly.

“Yes dear,” Molly confirmed, “haven’t you ever opened a present slowly, so you can enjoy the anticipation?”

“I do not think so...” but Caleb obeyed his command anyway.

A little clumsy and unsure, as he placed his fingertips against his chest, just below his collar bones. That was a far as he went however, clearly inexperienced and unsure of himself. Molly didn’t mind. It just meant that he got to teach the boy.

Reaching down, Molly carefully placed his hands on top of Caleb’s, as if Caleb were a soft clay that could be molded to his will. Carefully, he guided Caleb’s hands into movement. The brush of fingertips soft and careful, in a nonsense pattern across Caleb’s chest, that wandered up over his shoulders, and just brushed the edge of his neck. And Caleb let Molly guide him, a little breath caught in his chest, and held there.

“How does that feel?” Molly purred.

“S’good—“ Caleb gasped, slightly breathless, voice rising toward a moan as the guided fingers of one hand caught against the shallow dip between his collar bones.

“You like anticipation?”

“ _Ja_.”

“Lovely,” Molly chirped lightly. “It’s going to feel better in a moment, darling.”

With that, Molly guided Caleb’s fingers lower, letting the tips brush against Caleb’s nipples. A startled mewl of pleasure pushed past Caleb’s lips, as his entire body jerked, and his eyes stuttered shut. The wizard’s flesh was pebbling up, pink and stiff already, with barely a touch at all, hardening easily under the gentle touch of fingers that tugged in a circle. Molly couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a body as pretty as Caleb’s, his mouth going wet and warm with the desire to suck one of those stiff peaks of flesh into his mouth, and play with it until Caleb was moaning.

Another time. That was for another time.

“Very good,” Molly praised darkly, the heavy heat of arousal thick in his voice. “Now, dearest, I want you to fantasize about something that turns you on, and when you do, I want you to pinch your nipples.”

Caleb obeyed, shuddering as he squeezed the peaks of skin between his fingers, and releasing a tiny pleasure sound between his teeth. But it wasn’t as much as Molly had been wanting, and he could tell he had to push harder. The boy wasn’t quite there yet.

“Come on,” he hissed, devilish and honeyed in Caleb’s ear. “What’s the most arousing thing you can think of?”

Without thinking Caleb shut his eyes. And this time Molly could tell when it clicked. The wizard shuddered, hard and sensitive, as his eyes slid shut, and the phantom image behind his eyelids made him moan. It was soft and heated, aching with arousal, and Molly wanted to burn that sound in his ears forever.

“That’s right,” Molly quickly praised, snapping up Caleb’s pleasure as soon as he saw it. “Let it turn you on.”

Caleb’s hips shifted against the bed, and he pinched himself again. Harder than before, clearly hard enough to be painful, making his flesh turn an arousing shade of bruised pink. Gods Molly wanted to suck on Caleb’s nipples so badly it ached.

“Good boy,” Mollymauk breathed, and Caleb’s pleased reaction was unmistakable. Then his gentle murmur turned harder, becoming commanding as he said, “now tell me what you were thinking about.”

The wizard blushed, as soon as Molly uttered that command, and for a moment it looked as if he would be too embarrassed to answer. Then he confessed, in an awkward mumble. “You...”

“You were thinkin’ about me?” Molly questioned breathlessly—gods that was so fucking erotic—and Caleb sheepishly nodded. “What was I doing?”

“You were kissing me...” Caleb admitted, and for a moment Molly’s heart wanted to simultaneously break and melt at the innocence of the picture, before Caleb added. “And you let me touch your penis until I made you come.”

Shit.

“It gets you off when you think about touching me?”

His cock was leaking pre-seed as it throbbed to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“ _Ja_.”

And now he really wanted Caleb’s hands on his dick.

It took a superhuman effort for Molly to get his brain back on track. All he could think about was that image now. Of Caleb’s hands, Caleb’s mouth, Caleb’s anything, stroking his cock as he moaned and soiled himself with pre-come like he was doing right now. Until he spilled, slick and hot and slutty, into the grip of Caleb’s hand.

“Holy shite, I hope you realize how god damned sexy that is: hearing that I turn you on.” Molly gasped breathlessly, as his dick nearly screamed for attention.

“You are very humble _Herr_ Tealeaf.” Caleb teased, and the affectionate warmth in his voice made Molly ache in quite another way.

“Part of my charm, sweetie.” Mollymauk said, unable to keep a smitten smile off his face like a juvenile teenager crushing on their best friend, and his tail aimlessly stroked over Caleb’s cheek. Then he found his footing again.

He settled down to kiss the side of Caleb’s neck, mouthing affectionately at the slightly stubbly skin, letting his hands join Caleb in a lithe aimless dance over the skin on the human’s bare chest. With his hands on Caleb’s chest, he could feel the faulty cadence of Caleb’s breathing, the wild rhythm of heartbeat. And at that moment, it was everything.

“Spread your legs for me, darling,” Molly purred seductively, tugging on one of Caleb’s nipples with just a hint of claws.

Caleb’s chest stuttered under Mollymauk’s touch, and his voice was flustered when he spoke. “What is—how—How do you want me...”

For a moment Molly had to consider, tilting his head slightly on one side. How to tell Caleb what to do, without micro managing, or killing the mood...then he grinned, canines flashing in the dark, as he found his words.

“I want you to think about me,” he explained sweetly, “because I’m sure you’ve fantasized about this. And I want you to spread your legs for me, exactly how you want me to open my legs to you.”

And now the message had clearly gotten across, because Caleb immediately blushed deeply. The embarrassed redness rising across his skin, and making Molly preen inwardly. Perfect. Still blushing, Caleb obeyed, and it was stunning. Drawing up his legs, he planted his heels against the bed wide apart, letting his legs spread open to empty space between them.

Oh that was fucking gorgeous.

Molly could easily have settled between those thighs, fingered Caleb open enough to fuck, and fucked Caleb into the mattress until the wizard came screaming. The position was an unmistakably vulnerable one. Clearly Caleb had put some thought into exactly what Mollymauk would look like getting fucked.

“You want me to spread my legs for you like that?” Molly breathed, even at the voice at the back of his mind chanted _yes_ , _yes_ , _yes_.

“ _Ja_ —“ then Caleb’s voice vanished into a moan, as Molly heatedly sucked a bruise into the side of his neck.

And gods yes, Caleb’s hips jumped up from the bed. Twitching into empty air, as Molly tongued the side of the wizard’s neck, and watched him flagrantly beg with his body. It was enough to make Molly groan in response, and the tiefling wasn’t above rutting against the bed, in a desperate attempt to find much needed friction.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ached to touch himself like he was aching right now.

“What I want—fucking shit—” Molly gasped breathlessly, an arousal heavy curse breaking through his thread of thought, “What I want you to do next, is start at your knees, and brush your fingertips down the insides of your legs toward your hips.”

The wizard obeyed, reaching up to smooth his hands down the insides of his legs. The effect was immediate. He shuddered hard, hips jumping up against the bed again, and he unconsciously spread his legs a little wider.

“Now put a hand between your legs, and grind on it.” Molly growled.

It pulled a whimper from Caleb’s mouth as he hastily obeyed. Pressing his right hand down into the bulge of his groin, his hips clumsily jerked up into his palm. Open mouthed and panting, he rutted upward into his open hand, desperate and shameless after waiting so long.

“If you think you’re going to come, stop touching yourself,” Molly said. “We’re not there yet.”

Caleb sobbed from the bottom of his chest, and immediately snatched his hand back, breathing hard as his hips continued to shift restlessly.

“Fuck, you’re really going to come from that?”

“ _Ja_ —Molly,  _bitte_ —“ Caleb pleaded incoherently, as his common and Zemnian tangled hopelessly, “fucking _scheisse_ —“

Gods, that was just cruel. Caleb begging to come, like it was the only thing he could think about. It was sending Molly’s mind in all kinds of filthy directions, as heat and need crawled from the back of his neck downwards to join the ache in his balls. The best kind of arousing power.

“You can unlace your trousers.” Mollymauk stated, “but don’t touch yourself while you do.”

Eagerly Caleb rushed to obey, carefully picking apart the ties that held up his pants. Working with just his fingertips, so that not even his skin brushed against the fabric, and Molly watched with inward admiration. Caleb was such a delightful mix of dedicated and literal, Molly could just imagine all the things he could put the wizard through, just to test the edges of his restraint.

Finally Caleb pulled his hands away. The unyielding pressure of his clothing finally released, and Caleb let out a hissing breath of relief, the additional space in his loosened trousers a welcomed change. It made the tented bulge in his breeches much more obvious, and Mollymauk was struggling not to stare. He was really tempted to gloat at how erect Caleb obviously was.

“Perfect...gods you look so ready for me...” Molly hissed, kissing Caleb’s neck again, because he was so worked up and needed to do something. Or else he’d loose control of his mouth, and say a myriad of things he had yet to fully admit to himself.

Then he pulled back to growl in Caleb’s ear, from the bottom of his chest. “Put your hand inside...”

Caleb sucked in a jagged breath in response, immediately reaching down to obey. Breath coming too short, and too warm, he slid one hand beneath the hem of his pants. A little choked moan broke the heavy air around the bed, as his hand settled, bitting down hard on his lip.

Molly couldn’t help it: he looked.

It was simultaneously wonderful and the fucking worst. Watching as Caleb reached beneath his clothes to wrap a hand around himself. And Mollymauk caught a fleeting glimpse, the head of Caleb’s cock just peeking into view, flushed with blood and swollen heavy with need.

Moonweaver save him, but Caleb had a beautiful cock.

“Stroke the head.” The tiefling breathed reverently.

Yielding to directions, Caleb drew his hand away, coming back into Molly’s view. It was perfect. Molly could see everything: the stroke of Caleb’s hand, the slide of skin on skin, the slick head of Caleb’s erection falling into place against his palm. He was slick, and twitching, and half undone already.

“Now reach down, and squeeze your balls.” Molly ordered. “Gently...unless you’re into that...”

The wizard’s hand disappeared completely from view, vanishing between his legs. Then Caleb moaned weakly, throat bobbing, as his cock released a gush of pre-come that dribbled onto his stomach.

“F—Molly—“

“You’re such a good boy,” Molly praised, voice so frighteningly genuine he almost didn’t recognize himself. “Stroke the shaft with your fingertips...imagine petting yourself, like a cat...”

Caleb’s breath was coming ragged, pulled and released sharply, as his hand shifted beneath his clothing. It was beautiful, and Molly was obsessed with it. Reaching down to run his lavender hands over pale freckled skin, as Caleb had been doing to himself until redirected. He stroked, and pinched Caleb’s nipple just hard enough to make his flesh turn pink, and the human groaned in a way that was clearly fueled by desperation.

“Are you aching yet, darling?” Molly purred.

“ _Ja_ —“

“How does it feel?”

“ _Gut_.”

“Yeah?” The tiefling teased, because talking was what he did. “Tell me how bad your dick aches.”

“ _Ja_ —“ the wizard wailed, voice ruined and pleading “Molly _bitte_ —“

“Tell me what you want.” Molly almost snarled, harsh, demonic, and drawn from the deepest part of his purely tiefling nature.

“I want to come for you.” Caleb sobbed.

Mollymauk whimpered in the back of his throat, and doubled over.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good for me—“ he gasped, panting raggedly, as he struggled to speak through the arousal that roared in his ears.

Then his voice changed, turning predatory before he could consciously think about it, and he growled, “do it. I want you to. Right now. Wrap your hand around your dick, and fuck yourself, until you finish for me.”

Without a moments hesitation Caleb obeyed, shoving his hand deep into his breeches, and stroking himself fully. An unrestrained pleasure cry burst from his lips, unceremoniously thrusting up into the circle of his hand. And Molly drank it all in, watching obsessively, until nothing else mattered but the wizard unraveling in front of him.

“I want you to think about me again. I wanna be the thing to make you come.” Molly said, his voice drawn thready and shaking with unrestrained lust. “I want you to think about doing this to me.”

“Mollymauk—“ Caleb choked, back arching upward.

“Think about touching me like this.” The tiefling said, his tongue running wild as he watched Caleb thrust into his fist. “When you wrap your hand around my dick, and I come for you. Because I’m going to.”

Caleb was moaning between nearly every breath now. With every thrust of his hand, the swollen head of his cock peeked back into view, shiny with pre-spend and leaking against Caleb’s hand. He was gorgeous, and desperate, and all for Molly. And the tiefling couldn’t even remember his own need, through the overwhelming desire to make Caleb climax, hard, and filthy, and perfect.

”You’re gonna make me feel so fucking good,” he panted, voice thick with lust, as he pushed relentlessly toward the peak. “When you stroke my cock, and make me beg, because I’m a slut and I want it. I’m gonna be slick, and hot, and leaking into your hand with how ready I am. And the more you touch me, the louder I moan.”

Caleb groaned, probably picturing it, and his free hand scrabbled desperately at his own rusty colored hair.

“I’ll beg you to let me finish, because it gets me off to beg for it like a bitch. Until you finally give it to me. I’ll spill my jizz all over your hand, because I want you to feel me come, and stroke me while I give you everything—”

Caleb came.

It was gorgeous. Everything suddenly drawing together, too much, all at once. His back arched off the bed, a choked off wailing sob breaking from his throat, as he ejaculated into his hand. Thrusting upward, as his spend released half into his pants, and half onto his bare stomach. Finally, finally, the release they’d both been chasing, as the wizard’s pleasure hit him all at once. And Mollymauk got to watch him climax to the sound of the tiefling’s voice.

It took Molly only three uncontrolled thrusts of his hips into the pressure of his hand, to follow Caleb over. Unceremoniously rutting against his hand, until he spilled into his leggings. Drunk on pleasure, and the knowledge that Caleb got off on his voice, Molly let himself release.

And it was sweet fire through his hips, as his balls tightened, and his seed rose up to soil himself.

When Molly collected himself enough to come back to reality, Caleb’s body had stilled. The wizard was breathing hard, as if he’d been running from a ferocious grizzly bear, eyes closed as he sagged exhausted against the sheets. Straightening his back, Molly rolled his shoulders, and stretched.

“That,” he said fervently, reaching down to fondle himself through the last spasms of climax, “was the most amazing thing I have ever done. Holy shit.”

“ _Ja_ —“ Caleb said jerkily.

Pulling his hand out of his trousers, the wizard wrinkled his nose, and Molly devolved into pleasure drunk giggles.

“Need somethin’ to wipe your hand on, dearest?”

“I might.”

“Give me a moment then,” Molly said, leaning off the side of the bed to reach his pack. After digging for a few moments, he emerged with a ragged piece of cloth he used to polish his swords. It wasn’t much, and might arguably make the wizard dirtier, but it was something.

“Try that, darling.”

“ _Danke_.”

Mechanically Caleb began to blot his stomach, and for several moments of deep quiet, Molly only watched him. Now that the moment was over, the human had become almost unnervingly quiet. He was still breathing roughly, too sharp and out of rhythm on every exhale, and blinking more than usual. With growing concern, Molly watched the wizard turn brittle and confused, scrubbing his stomach where he’d already cleaned himself before. Then Caleb shuddered, eyes screwing shut, as a distressed noise clawed in the back of his throat.

“You alright, dearest?” Molly prodded

His stomach turned sour as Caleb shook his head in a denial.

“Red?” The tiefling whispered gently.

“ _Nein_ —“ Caleb choked, obviously trying to restrain himself. Then he sobbed, shrinking into himself, and as if the word were poison wailed: “ _green_.”

For a moment Caleb struggled with himself, and Molly knew it would be useless to push, so he waited. Stroking Caleb’s cheek with his hand, he shushed comfortingly through his teeth, and Caleb keened in the back of his throat again. Then the wizard convulsively reached up to wrap his hand around Molly’s.

“It felt so good...” Caleb sobbed, broken and confused.

The confession was the last crack in Caleb’s defenses, and he shattered. He was truly weeping now, harsh and heavy, like knives in his lungs. And Mollymauk watching him, felt his heart splinter with piercing empathy. Whispering a string of meaningless nothings, Molly cupped Caleb’s face, leaning over to murmur half formed words of comfort against Caleb’s forehead. And after a moment Caleb reached up to tangle one hand into Molly’s hair, which made Molly’s heart crack that little bit farther.

“Why did it feel good?” Caleb asked, with frighteningly earnest confusion, so much like a child it was unnerving.

Gods, he really didn’t know did he? And that made Molly’s heart shiver to pieces.

“That’s how it’s _supposed_ to feel,” Molly choked, feeling his own tears burn on the edge of falling, in the face of Caleb’s distress.

“That...“

“Yes, dearest,” Molly said, fiercely reigning in his tears, and forcing himself to care for Caleb first. “It feels good.”

“I haven’t—“ Caleb was weeping harder now, and his hand had become vice-like in Molly’s hair. “I haven’t done that in so long—“

“Sweetheart,” Molly breathed, hovering just above Caleb’s face.

“So long—“

“Shush,” Molly breathed, stroking the hair out of Caleb’s face. Then he murmured under his breath, “color?”

“Green.”

Softly, cautiously, Molly leaned over to brush his lips against the wizard’s. Almost a kiss, but not quite, as he whispered against Caleb’s mouth. “Color?”

Immediately Caleb yielded, pressing up into the kiss, with a wordless hum that clearly meant ‘green’ without saying it. And this was something chaste. Somehow gentle, and at the same time unbearably sad. Caleb was still shivering with confused emotion, and Molly felt burdened enough with Caleb’s past pains to choke on them if he let himself.

But it was a kiss with sweet pain in it, never enough to become overwhelming, and just enough to stitch the torn places back together.

It was just enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sheds tears of happiness over my boys*
> 
> SMUT! FUCKING FINALLY.


	17. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Heaven if you sent us down so we could build a playground, for the sinners to play as saints, you'd be so proud of what we made. I hope you got some beds around, cause' you're the only refuge now. For every mother, every child, every brother._
> 
> _That's caught in the crossfire_
> 
> [Crossfire](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=fcsDG_jVYbc), by Stephen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning! 
> 
> As stated in the title, this chapter deals extensively with scars, past abuse, and unhealthy coping methods.

Caleb had scars.

They all knew that. It was clear to anyone that looked. Mental scars, that still marked the torn places in his soul, where ghosts of the past haunted his mind. When fire went too far, when someone moved too fast, when he voiced his own toxic self image aloud. The wizard’s appearance was another scar. Always disheveled, dirty, and tired. Like someone trying desperately to never be noticed, never been seen, never be _known_. His dirt, and his scruff, and his obsessive lack of self care were all scars.

Still, Molly didn’t realize just how many scars there were, until time and familiarity revealed them.

Molly found the first one, during one of their private moments of intimacy to themselves. They hadn’t gotten much farther than the general affections that marked most of their stolen moments, little kisses and teasing whispers, clingy embraces from Mollymauk, and faltering affections from the wizard in answer. Caleb’s coat had been discarded, which had been the first step to Molly’s discovery, and his shirt had become half unbuttoned revealing the edges of his collar bones.

The tiefling’s hand brushed away the edge of Caleb’s shirt, which led him to the telltale ridge of hardened scar tissue. Then his fingers had lingered, tracing thoughtfully over the one long scar that spanned the width of Caleb’s chest. At the faintly exploring touch, Caleb had started, flinching away violently, and pulling the edge of his shirt back up.

“Are you shy about that?” Molly asked softly, drifting away and measuring the wizard’s posture.

“It is...not pretty to look at...” Caleb muttered.

He was fiddling with the edges of his collar, as if half of him wanted to re-button his undone shirt front. But Molly wasn’t one to shrink from scars, or avoid them. He had too many of his own, crosshatching one over the other, with new cuts being added almost daily.

“Can I see it?” The tiefling asked gently, one hand lingering over Caleb’s.

“I have never really showed anyone.”

It wasn’t a protest, but it wasn’t an agreement either. Clearly here were more walls, more ancient defenses, old fortifications and pitfalls in Caleb’s brain. Molly was continually finding them, each layer of self defense deeper and stronger than the last one, each compulsive habit more firmly ingrained and harder to overcome. They’d found ways around, or over, most of the obstacles. But there was always another challenge to be surmounted.

The tiefling had accepted that by now, fully embracing Caleb’s self perpetuated maze of checks and balances. The brilliant mind, the loyal attachment, the stubborn doubts and fears, were all part and parcel with the wizard himself. There was no way to have one scrap, without all the other parts of the puzzle. And Molly for one, was resigned to the laborious task of sorting out Caleb’s scattered pieces.

“I want to see,” Molly pressed again, still gentle and open, “if you’ll let me.”

Caleb flushed self consciously. A vain hope of removing the pressure, made Molly carelessly shuck his own shirt over his head. The web of his own scars was much more noticeable without the covering, stretching extensively down his torso and across his arms. Unconsciously Caleb’s fingers sought out the tender line of a newer cut, still scabbed over and fresh.

Moving with infinite caution, watching carefully for any sign of distress, Molly reached out to pop open one button lower on the wizard’s shirt.

“Can I see?” He asked again, careful and reverent.

With a jerky nod, Caleb began to undress, stripping away the shield of his shirt. In a few moment’s he was exposed, pale skin almost luminous. Shakily he glanced at Molly’s face, as if searching for a judgement, and then away as Molly’s eyes ranged over the wizard’s torso.

Unlike the tiefling, Caleb’s scars were painfully visible. Where Molly’s own shallow cuts closely resembled the natural pigment of his skin, Caleb’s blemishes were an irritated pink color, against the lighter shade of his skin. Backgrounded by such a pale color, the pattern of Caleb’s scars were clearly visible, bisecting unmarked flesh in pinkish lines.

And the pattern was by no means sparse, Caleb’s scars were numerous, and vicious. Many (probably from the dangerous life their group lived), were still fresh and easily identifiable to Molly’s experience. Cuts, and scrapes, and stabs, that the tiefling was all too familiar with. They were expected, if more easily spotted, than Molly had hoped.

It was the other scars that turned Molly’s stomach.

These wounds were older, faded and less noticeable. But their placement and shape was much more unsettling. If Molly had to name it, he could only assert that there was an intensional cruelty to these marks, that sharply contrasted the randomized scatter of Caleb’s battle wounds. These scars were...inflicted...not accidentally sustained.

Sympathetically drawn, Molly could trace them, his shrinking fingers discovering each one. Caleb’s back was completely ravaged. It was a vicious web of lacerations, laid out like a horizontal pattern of tiger’s claws across his shoulder blades and lower back. In some places the lacing of wounds even curled around to the side of his ribs and stomach, as if the cuts were inflicted by something flexible.

“Trent?” Molly growled, as if he needed to ask. Given Caleb’s account of the past, the origin of these scars was only too painfully clear.

“ _Ja_.” Caleb whispered haltingly, shivering reflexively as Molly’s fingers brushed over the marred tissue.

“He _whipped_ you?!”

“When I earned it.” As if being whipped was something you could actually earn.

“Why?” Molly asked, choked with empathy, wondering if he even wanted to know. “What did you do?”

“Failed to meet expectations mostly,” the wizard said with a hollow kind of straightforwardness. “When I fucked up a spell, or didn’t attend to lessons. Mistakes were...unacceptable...”

“But mistakes are—they’re human—“ Molly protested, “didn’t he ever allow you to just screw something up?”

“We were expected to be perfect,” Caleb stated. The coldness of his tone left no personal interpretation in the matter, no color of his own feeling or judgement, it was merely a clinical statement of fact. “He never tolerated less than that.”

“Gods I fucking hate him—“ the tiefling snarled, vengeful and ferocious.

“You have never even met him...” Caleb protested confusedly.

“I’ve met you, darling boy,” Molly murmured, overwhelmed by sympathy and affection for the human in front of him. “And you don’t have to know someone, to hate what they’ve done.” His fingers traced the wheals that ran up over Caleb’s shoulder, and he breathed softly, “I hate this...”

“It was a long time ago,” Caleb said with a joyless smile, “they hardly hurt anymore.”

Molly’s fingers traced down Caleb’s shoulder, across the wizard’s reedy bicep. Here were more scars, these different in texture. The skin was taut, mottled and shiny. There was a veined stiffness to parts of the skin, and other parts of the flesh had been pulled too tight and stretched apart in tortured patches. The shiny scarring ringed his upper arm like a twisted kind of jewelry.

“What about this one?” Molly inquired sadly. “Is it a burn?”

Caleb nodded, watching the tiefling trace the mark, as the wizard explained its origin. “That was from teaching.”

“Not “teaching you to be perfect” again, I hope.” Molly growled.

“ _Nien_. We were studying the uses of Abjuration,” Caleb recounted, “and Trent wanted us to learn one of the protection spells. It was...hard for me...Abjuration was not my strength. So he would grab my arm every day, and burn it with his hand...until I learned the spell he wanted, and the fire didn’t hurt me any more.”

“And how long did it take you to learn?”

“Weeks.” Caleb admitted, voice drawn with echoes of remembered pain. “It was the hardest skill I ever mastered.”

Molly snarled with wordless enmity.

“It was a good lesson!” Caleb asserted, almost defensively. “I never struggled with Abjuration like that again. He forced me to truly master it, and now it is easy.”

“Forgive me, if I don’t agree,” The tiefling grated out harshly. “There are some things too valuable to sacrifice, merely for the sake of intellectual knowledge.”

“That...I know is true...” Caleb mumbled brokenly, with a shade of old pain. He shuddered, and whispered with choking guilt, “I gave too much...”

Here was an abyss that Molly hadn’t intended to uncover. That happened often too, when a stray word, or an innocent thought, tipped Caleb’s balance. It was an occurrence that Molly wished they could avoid. But about these weighted words, statements that had too much meaning behind them, the wizard was obsessively private. The key to his thoughts was something Molly didn’t have, and the tiefling had yet to discover (or learn from Caleb himself), what the triggers were.

“I’m almost afraid to ask about this one...” Molly said, with grieved reverence, reaching out to trail his fingers across the next set of scars.

Of all Caleb’s hurts, this one was the most distressingly visible. Molly had seen it before in fact, the bisected lines too visible to miss. But always at a distance, never in full detail, and never with Molly’s full attention directed at it. Now, as Molly looked at it with real intent, their grievous nature was obvious and revolting.

The scars were surgically straight, and arranged with equally intentional balance. A straight line, drawn from one soft angle of Caleb’s shoulder to the other, passing right beneath his collar bones. The longest line, tracing all the way from the first line and following over the wizard’s sternum, to cross the plains of his stomach with a slight deviance around the belly button, finally coming to an end just above Caleb’s pubic bone. Where the last short line was traced from one sharply jutting angle of Caleb’s pelvis, to the other.

Under Molly’s fingers these scars were thick, and almost ropey. Hardened fibrous scar tissue marked the wounds, as if Caleb’s body—too desperate to heal itself—had aggressively built up tissue as quickly as possible, to strengthen and cover an old deep wound. Caleb shivered when Molly touched them, cringing away as if to break out of his own ruined skin.

It was only to clear what these kinds of scars meant.

“Please tell me these aren’t what I think,” Molly pleaded, wishing that Caleb really could.

“He was...an inquisitive man...” Caleb mumbled. “He was always experimenting with one project, or another, trying to discover new knowledge.”

“And he experimented on you...” Molly finished heavily.

“I don’t remember most of it,” the wizard shared, as if that was somehow supposed to make it better. “Not clearly. In my dreams, _ja_ , but not real. He was always more interested in the mind. What happened to the brain when it was exhausted, or drugged, or overwhelmed.” He thoughtfully traced a finger across his scarred sternum, and added, “but he had his...anatomical curiosities too...”

Molly whined, bitter and resentful, as if to protest against the very universe where such atrocities could happen. Not that Caleb would see them as atrocious. That was the worst pain of all: how easy the wizard found it to rationalize, or explain away, all his wounds. “ _It was for the sake of education. No pain, no gain. Trent was just curious. Caleb didn’t remember it._ “

“ _Someone else probably has it worse._ “

The tiefling had heard it all, hated it all. He could almost hate Caleb if he wasn’t careful. “Accept your pain,” he wanted to scream, “you were hurt. _He hurt you_. There’s no excuse for that.” Tempted to rage and rail against the very broken wizard, that he should have treated kindly, in some misguided attempt to break Caleb free of himself. But such indignation was useless, and Molly didn’t try. If he couldn’t accept Caleb as he was, then Molly didn’t deserve the title of “friend” at all.

Let alone more than that.

“I have—“ Caleb impulsively stammered, “I want to show you more.”

With shaking fingers, Caleb began to unwind the long strips of linen around his wrists. Slowly unspooling the fabric bit by bit, as his thin fleshless arms came into view. And within moments, Molly could begin to see why Caleb would wish to hide, taking refuge in bandages at all. The ladder of short neat slashes crawling up Caleb’s arms, were only too easy to recognize.

Jerkily Caleb presented one forearm, and Molly’s fingers wrapped around it. The tiefling didn’t need to look, already knowing what he would find, but he did anyway. Tracing the lines with infinite care, and every unspoken sympathy behind the gesture.

“I know what these are,” Molly murmured gently, “I have my own.”

The tiefling lined his arm up with Calebs. Not a set of neat lines like Caleb’s, but one long and deep scar, running from Molly’s elbow to his wrist. It wasn’t as visible either, half hidden underneath the coiling embrace of Molly’s snake tattoo, and more matching with the tiefling’s own skin color. The wizard frowned as he looked at it, burdened with questions he opened his mouth to voice, but didn’t outright say.

“I wasn’t trying to die.” Molly said, shouldering the burden, and answering Caleb’s questions before he asked them. “Although that would have been the best fucking way...so maybe I was...” he shrugged. “But I fucking...I felt so foreign in my own damn skin. It wasn’t mine, and I...wanted out...”

“So you tried—“ Caleb wavered, leaving his own sentence unfinished.

“To cut myself out.”

“How was that supposed to work?”

“It didn’t make sense, but it didn’t have to,” Molly explained. “It was like my skin... _my_ skin...was just underneath his, if I could get down far enough. Like being dressed in someone else’s skin suit, that you know isn’t yours, and you could just...take off any time you wanted...so I tried. I cut almost down to the bone, before Yasha caught me, happily slicing away and getting blood everywhere...”

“I’m...glad she found you...” Caleb murmured carefully, avoiding Molly’s eyes.

“I’m glad she did too,” Molly said, heart burdened with a gentle ache of mingled pain and pleasure at Caleb’s hesitant words of attachment.

They weren’t Molly’s words. The “I love you” that he wanted to hear, wanted to _say_. But “I’m glad you’re alive,” said enough.

“Mine were from...when I broke...” Caleb clumsily stated. “While I wasn’t...all together.”

There was a meaning to the words, like Caleb was speaking in code, that Molly couldn’t understand. Obviously Caleb understood what he was saying, but Molly didn’t.

“You...broke...” Molly repeated.

Caleb nodded. “I hurt myself, a lot,” he said quietly. “They stopped letting me get near mirrors, because I smashed them and used the shards...and they would pad my arms, so I couldn’t touch them...” He looked at the bandages in his lap, and smiled wanly, “I still do that...”

“That’s why you bandage yourself?” Molly questioned, “you still want to...do this...”

He traced one talon over the textured bumps of scars. There were so many, it made him sick. To Molly even one scar on Caleb’s skin seemed like an unbearable burden, and the numerous ancient wounds were only more distressing, reminders of the past.

“A little,” Caleb confessed, very low, as if admitting a crime, fearful of Molly’s judgement.

Sometimes Caleb broke Molly’s heart, without doing a damn thing.

“I wanted you to know about them,” Caleb mumbled.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

“It is best if you know the worst of me.”

“Shush,” the tiefling contradicted softly.

“I am pretty fucked up,” Caleb said with a kind of joyless laugh that sounded painful, “I know that...I am a mess...”

“Shush...” even softer still.

For a long time Molly didn’t say anything. As he traced over the scars, lost in his own thoughts. Caleb awkwardly submitted under Molly’s tender affection, as if unsure how to handle the sympathy, not understanding the empathy for what it was. He was incapable of recognizing the weight of his own wounds, of sympathizing with himself, and the fact that Molly would was even more outside the wizard’s comprehension.

Molly longed to remove that disconnect from Caleb’s brain.

“I wish I could erase these...” Molly said, bending his head to kiss Caleb’s scarred arm, lingering over one of the deeper slashes.

“I’m sorry,” the wizard apologized, “I know they are...ugly to look at.”

“Sweetheart, I couldn’t care less about how they _look_!” Molly protested sadly. “I wish I could erase the events that _made_ them. Made all of them. This,” touching the burn on Caleb’s arm, “and these,” brushing the slashes on his back, “and especially this...” lingering over the incision on Caleb’s chest.

Caleb frowned, mute and confused.

“Your pain hurts me,” Molly tried vainly to explain, though he guessed it was far beyond what the wizard, in his cage of thoughts, could ever accept. “It’s hard to know someone you care about was ever wounded. And yes, I wish I could undo it all...Just keep you safe, somewhere far away from anything that could hurt you...”

Without warning Molly suddenly scooted forward, pushing Caleb flat against the bed. Molly descended on top. Carefully the tiefling pressed another kiss to Caleb’s scars, this time falling over the bisected scar across Caleb’s sternum. For several long moments, he lingered there, tracing the line from one shoulder to the other.

“You do help me sometimes,” Caleb admitted softly.

Molly raised his head, coming back face to face with Caleb. “I do?”

“ _Ja_. This,” Caleb pressed his finger to Molly’s lips, “helps...You help...”

“I want to, if I can.”

“You do...More than you realize...”

The tiefling smiled, a gentle shadow of his usual white fanged brilliance. “Well thats good...You help me too, dearest...”


	18. Let Me Try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Birds flying high, you know how I feel. Sun in the sky, you know how I feel. Breeze driftin' on by, you know how I feel. It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me._
> 
> _And I'm feeling good_
> 
> [Feeling Good](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=D5Y11hwjMNs), by Nina Simone.

Sometimes Molly acted like he knew what he was doing. Scratch that, _most_ times he acted like he knew what he was doing. But really that was pretty much bullshit. Molly wasn’t a planner. He was the type of idiot to fly by the seat of his pants, and come up with some new delightful fuckery out of thin air.

It happened all the time. When they went shopping, he would be seized by the unruly impulse to kiss Caleb’s too perfect lips. Around the table in bars he allowed his tail to flirt with the wizard’s leg. On their journeys through the wilds, Molly’s desires only got more unruly, with no room to vent them, as they traveled in close proximity to the rest of the group.

Caleb on the other hand was the exact opposite. He was undeniably a planner. The wizard was slow, and methodical, never taking a step without considering it first. So whenever he suggested an idea of his own, Molly could have predicted the event, watching the wheels turning in the wizard’s heady, until Caleb actually worked up the courage to say anything. And when Caleb said something, Mollymauk took it seriously.

“I would like to try something,” Caleb said carefully, as if after all this time it would somehow surprise Molly to hear that the wizard had been sitting on thoughts for days.

“Oh,” Molly grinned sharply, “that sounds lovely.”

They both got sidetracked, as Molly delicately ripped a small piece of sugared pastry away from the candied cake he was holding wrapped up in a paper bag. Molly, in his usual style of “I don’t know what I’m doing, but goddamn do I look good doing it,” had been possessed by the desire to stop at a street vendors stall to buy sugared cakes. And now they were sitting near the stall, eating the cakes. Or rather, Molly was ripping apart pieces of one of the cakes, and hand feeding them to the wizard as if he were Molly’s favorite pet.

It was delightful, watching Caleb blush every time he accepted his food.

Every time Caleb’s eyes darted around, as if checking to be sure that no one was looking. Then he clumsily leaned forward, to open his mouth, and let Molly tuck the pastry in. Watching Caleb open his mouth and submit, made Molly simultaneously want to coo affectionately, while also sending his mind in all kinds of inappropriate directions.

“Good boy,” Molly purred, because Caleb allowing himself to be fed was fucking amazing, and because Molly was well aware of that title’s power.

Caleb looked like he’d been on the verge of speaking. But the carelessly tossed out phrase appeared to glue the wizard’s tongue to the top of his mouth. He ducked his head, flushing deeply, and subtly checking that they were still somewhat private. They were in the open street, so that only went so far, but there was some degree of camouflage in a crowd.

“Color?” Molly checked, Caleb’s embarrassment sparking concern.

“Green.” The wizard confirmed immediately, subtly collecting himself, and bringing his eyes back to Molly’s hands.

“Yeah?” Molly questioned, and was answered with a nod. “Because ya seem pretty uncomfortable with this.”

“It’s...embarrassing...” Caleb attempted to explain, but the frown on his face made Molly think that the wizard was discontented with the effort, unsatisfied with his words.

“Good way?” Molly pressed, trying to help Caleb articulate, “or bad way?”

“Good way...just...” the wizard chewed on his tongue, “I feel very...vulnerable...”

“And that’s not a bad thing?”

Caleb shook his head mutely. For several seconds he fixated on his hands, nervously twisting the hem of his coat, where it had long ago been picked ragged. He opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly trying to say something. Then he grinned wickedly at no one in particular (unless he was sharing an inside joke with the dirt at his feet) and leaned into Molly’s space as if he were sharing a secret.

“I sort of want them to know...” the wizard whispered mischievously to the empty air between them. His eyes darted up to Molly’s for half a second after the confession, but Molly couldn’t keep them.

“And what is that, darling boy?” Molly prompted.

He reached up to ruffle Caleb’s hair affectionately. Because Caleb’s eyes were bashful, and the rusty tatter was so temptingly close. The wizard’s pleased reaction was extremely gratifying. Caleb hummed pleasantly in the back of his throat, very subtly stretching, and pressing into Molly’s petting...

Sometimes Caleb could behave adorably like a cat...

“I like them to see how we—how you—“ Caleb struggled for words, befuddled by the combined difficulty of speaking his thoughts in unfamiliar language, and articulating through Molly’s hand on his head.

“You want them to see how good you are for me?” Molly prompted.

The gamble paid off. Caleb immediately shuddered, going almost boneless, as he leaned forward into Molly’s space. His forehead propped up against Molly’s shoulder, and Molly scratched lightly behind his ear.

“They’ll all know it, just by looking,” Molly purred into Caleb’s ear so conveniently close to his mouth. “You’re my boy, and everybody knows it.”

Caleb nodded into the fabric of Molly’s coat.

Like a reward, Molly ripped off another piece of cake, and offered it to Caleb’s mouth. Still pliant as before, Caleb accepted it. For a moment longer they lingered, and then the wizard sat up again, still chewing...and definitely a little pink...

“You are being very distracting though...” Caleb complained without any annoyance.

Molly only hummed inquiringly in response.

“I wanted to tell you,” the wizard clumsily explained, “about my idea...”

“Ah, that’s right!” Molly said, grinning evilly, “you had something you wanted to try.”

“ _Ja_...with you...”

“Well?” The tiefling said, leaning forward with prankish eagerness. “Tell me all about it, sweetheart.”

“I...” Caleb began, but the words died in his throat, and he glanced nervously at their public position again.

“Come on, darling, don’t keep me waiting, I’m very eager to know.”

“I wanted to try and...” he flushed deeply before finishing “...serve you...”

“You want to serve me.”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb explained, as if now that he’d spoken the thought aloud he’d gained just enough courage to keep going. “You are always so...kind to me, and I...want to be good for you...”

“You’re very good already, darling, haven’t you heard me tell you?”

“I want...I want to give you more...”

Molly allowed himself a moments silence, evaluating Caleb as the wizard hung his head.

“Would this be an ‘in private’ type situation?” He prodded after attempting to decode Caleb’s posture. “Or was this a scenario you wanted to begin right now?”

“In private, _ja_ ,” Caleb answered immediately. “I don’t want other people to see...” he glanced up clumsily to meet Molly’s eyes again for half a second, before he flickered away again.

“Is that because you want to give me a sexual service?” Molly questioned, voice low.

“N—I don’t—I’m...” Caleb stammered anxiously, before forcing himself to calm. “Maybe?”

“Yes or No, darling,” Molly said, voice hardening as he returned to the boundaries. “I don’t accept shades of gray.”

“I have not...decided yet.” The wizard finally explained, after silently organizing his thoughts under Molly’s patient observation. “If I want that, I will...tell you when I’m ready...”

“There we go, that was much better,” Molly cooed.

As a reward he tore off another piece of cake, and offered it for Caleb to eat. The wizard smiled, as if self aware and amused by Molly’s less than subtle methods of rewarding him. But he also accepted the cake.

“So,” Molly said, as Caleb chewed. “When were you thinking of, trying out your new idea?”

Caleb blushed again. Still as adorable as ever, and still enough to make Molly feel like his heart was going to melt. Finally the wizard swallowed, and admitted in a whisper, “tonight?”

“That soon?” Molly said laughing.

“ _Ja_ , I have been...thinking for a while...”

“Well lets see...” Molly said, teasingly making a show of thinking hard. “Let me just review my schedule, darling. As you know,  I’m a very busy man, and I might not be able to fit you in, with so many other appointments on my—but what’s this? Well aren’t you lucky. It looks like tonight happens to be the only time this week I can make room for you! What a lucky boy you are!”

“You are very ridiculous _Herr_ Tealeaf.”

“Of course I am, sweetie, what else did you expect?”

<><><>

“That will be seventeen gold pieces please,” Veira the Receptionist said, with a friendly smile.

“Caleb—“ Molly hissed under his breath, beginning to protest.

But Caleb only anchored his eyes stubbornly on the wooden countertop, and began to methodically stack the necessary coins one by one.

“I’m sure seventeen must be a fair price.” Molly said a little icily, turning his eyes on the receptionist. “Isn’t that right Veira?”

“O-of course!” Veira insisted, a little anxious under Molly’s thinly veiled suspicions.

  
He’d already found out her name. Mollymauk was the sort of man to make friends everywhere he went, and treat every stranger he met like family, so it wasn’t a stretch for him to immediately inquire about her name. Not to mention, her hair was gorgeous, she had nice eyes, her mouth looked just the right kind of plush...and Molly felt no shame about admiring the shape of her bust, which was generous...

“It might seem a little expensive, but the extra cost comes with several amenities,” Veira said, shuffling in her seat. “The rooms are serviced by our staff at no charge, you’ll be provided with food at your request, and you’ll have access to an individual bathing area.”

“Sounds lovely,” Molly purred, allowing layers of anticipation to seep into his voice.

Caleb’s mouth quirked in the tiniest shadow of a grin. Was that...Caleb acting _smug_? Molly pretended not to notice.

“And of course,” here Veira pinked slightly, before continuing, “most of our top customers request companionship...which we do provide to the rooms without charge. Unless there are more than two parties requested, at which time we do charge additional fees.”

“Well doesn’t that sound lovely too...” Molly growled at a low pitch that could only be called licentious, as his tail waved lazily.

“So...shall I...notarize that you would like a personal companion’s service for the evening?” Veira hesitantly asked, reaching slowly for a piece of parchment, and glancing back and forth between Molly and Caleb.

The wizard choked on air, going a very nice shade of crimson, as he faltered in his slow count of coins. Molly glanced sidelong at Caleb’s face, and paused just long enough to admire it. Before he leaned comfortably across the counter in Veira’s direction, letting his tail flick up to hook possessively around Caleb’s wrist.

 “I don’t think that’ll be necessary tonight,” Molly said smugly.

As the tail coiled around his wrist, Caleb turned his hand almost unconsciously, until the spade tip was cupped against his palm. Then he gently tugged on the gold piercing through cartilage of its spade tip. Which made Molly smother the urge to swear colorfully and heatedly, as he flinched, and felt his cock tingle with interest. He couldn’t so easily disguise the way every muscle in his tail locked up, and the spade pressed eagerly into Caleb’s fingers, as if the thing had a mind of its own.

He should probably tell Caleb that his tail was an erogenous area at some point...

Or, more likely, Caleb had already figured it out anyway. He’d gone a vivid shade of red, and quickly pulled his fingers away from the tip of Molly’s tail. As if to provide some kind of distraction, and appear innocent, he went back to fishing out gold coins. Molly decided to let his tail continue to hang around Caleb’s arm...just a reminder...

“The offer sounds lovely,” Molly said, shameless as ever, waving his hand dismissively. “But I think we’ll enjoy the room just as well without any help.”

“Oh,” Veira said, subtly glancing back and forth between the two men before her, as she connected the dots. And then nodded, as she discretely pretended to have not noticed anything. “Of course. Please, make yourselves completely comfortable.”

“I intend to,” Molly promised with a razor edged grin. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like a ‘multiple parties’ type of evening...which is a damn shame...”

He let his eyes travel one more time over Veira’s frame, taking in every tiny detail, in an final parting once over. Then Molly’s back bowed over the counter, and he sucked in a sharp breath of surprised pleasure, as Caleb’s fingers gripped firmly around his tail and rubbed for a half second. The wizard’s face had turned stony, and after that half second of unmistakably intentional stimulation, his fingers stilled and closed dominantly over Molly’s tail. Fuck.

That was definitely a turn on.

“Seventeen.” Caleb said, voice mechanical, as he pushed the stacked coins across the counter.

Molly shakily gathered the scattered pieces of himself back together, pushing the hair out of his face with a satisfied hum. Next to him Caleb’s moment of confidence had vanished like smoke, retreating into his old uncertain self, and he awkwardly released Molly’s tail, as if it was a crime to hold it. That wouldn’t do at all. Firmly Molly coiled his tail more tightly around the wizard’s wrist, holding him anchored to Molly’s side.

Molly liked when Caleb got possessive, and he wasn’t about to let the wizard take it back.


	19. For Seventeen Gold...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm older now but I feel my time start to begin. Out on the road they all advertise it, I'm not buying it. 'Cause we are stronger now than our fathers. Catch your head, I'm calling out, I'm dead. I'm not waking up if I'm dreaming. It's where I wanna stay._
> 
> _And we will find our way, yeah, I know. Just like they do on the TV. Maybe we'll go from nothing, to incredible. Just like they do on the TV_
> 
> [Like They Do On the TV](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=gsrDGusXdXA), by Kimbra.

 The room, in Molly’s opinion, was definitely worth the seventeen gold.

He let out a cackle of mad delight as soon as the entered, prancing into the center of the room, and spinning to take it all in.

“Ta-da.” Caleb said awkwardly, without the least hint of showman’s theatricality in the phrase, as he gestured at their surroundings.

“Caleb!”

“I thought you would like it,” the wizard said, shuffling in place and fixating on his feet, as he faintly smiled.

“Darling! I love it!” Molly gushed, as he continued slowly spinning.

“That is good...”

“Can we explore everything?!” The tiefling gasped eagerly.

“ _Ja_ , I would hope so. We have it all to ourselves for the evening.” Caleb said.

Molly purred, and immediately darted off toward the nearest door.

The place Caleb had fixated on bringing him was more of a luxury suite than a regular room. Walking through the main door brought them into a spacious sitting area, with ottomans and low couches scattered conveniently around the room. In the space of about thirty seconds Molly had vibrated over the entire room, pausing to throw himself on every couch, sniff all the vases with flowers in them, or rub the window curtains between his fingers to check the fabric.

Beyond the main sitting room, Molly discovered only more luxuries, in a series of delightful surprises. A pair of gorgeous glass paned doors led out onto a balcony, that looked out over the surrounding city. Pausing long enough to admire the view, Molly tossed a copper coin over the edge of the balcony, just for the fun of it. The next door he tried led into a dining room that Molly ravaged in a matter of seconds. He tested the chairs to see how soft they were, ran his hands over the table cloth, once again paused at all the flower vases, and moved several decorative plates and dishes out of position as he admired the glasswork.

Reaching the bedroom was the best part however. Molly couldn’t help but giggle delightedly as soon as he entered. It was a gorgeous room, hung with dark velvet curtains all around the walls that were tied back to reveal the windows. There was a richly carved wardrobe that Molly gutted shamelessly, leaving all the doors wide open; and a fireplace, which Molly approved of. But the bed outshone them all.

It was a four poster monstrosity, hung with the same heavy velvet that decorated the walls. The thick coverlet was embroidered with intricate traceries of flowers and vines, and Molly was itching to slide under it, burning with the curiosity to feel the sheets. His boots came off in record time, the coat soon followed, and then Molly shamelessly pulled the bed apart. The sheets were definitely silk, which Molly had been desperately hoping they were, and he suspected they were scented with some kind of perfume. A subtle spicy smell that Molly couldn’t place, but was absolutely obsessed with. Spread eagled on the bed, Molly allowed himself to bask in it.

This was amazing.

He was lounging on the single most decadent bed he’d ever laid eyes on. Surrounded by silk sheets, embroidered blankets, feather pillows, and that subtle spicy smell. Mollymauk Tealeaf had never felt more in his element. He was a rainbow peacock of a man, that enjoyed luxurious ostentation in every form. This swanky, expensive as fuck hotel room, was his favored terrain.

All of this, Caleb had done for him.

That thought made his heart go soft, gentle and warm as melted butter. Gods, this was so amazing. Caleb was so amazing. He’d spent so much fucking money, without a second thought, just to give Mollymauk one night of this. A treacherous prickle made Molly throw an arm over his face, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the emotion that caused it, as he huffed out a breath through his nose.

Good to know he was still absolutely fucked.

Molly could only allow himself to gaze down the path of that thought for about five seconds, before he was forced to admit that it would wreck him if he pursued it any farther. So he desperately searched for other topics to distract himself. The bed. That was a good thought. Nice and impersonal. It was a gorgeous as fuck bed, that would be gorgeous as fuck to sleep in, and make Molly feel gorgeous as fuck while he was in it...Not to mention all the wonderfully filthy things Molly could do to Caleb, while they were in it...

That thought immediately took root, and Molly was more than happy to let it sweep him off his feet. Spread out over the bed, breath turning slightly heated, as he basked in the sheets. And imagined making the wizard scream into them. By the Moonweaver, that was an amazing picture. More than enough to make Molly’s body stir awake, hardening under his leggings, as he admired his mental picture.

He couldn’t help but wonder...had anyone else ever tried jerking off in this bed?

“Mollymauk...”

Or maybe the sexual tension could wait till later.

“Yes darling?” Molly sighed lazily, tail thumping softly against the bed, as he opened his eyes to look up at Caleb.

The wizard was lingering hesitantly at the foot of the bed, like someone waiting to be scolded, and even after all this time it made Molly bristle. It hurt to see Caleb so unsure of himself. Still, after all this time. A deep seeded doubt that had nothing to do with reality, or any genuine danger, and everything to do with a scarred ugly history. One that Molly ached to wipe away.

“What’s on your mind?” The tiefling prompted, tilting his head on one side.

“I—“ Caleb paused to choose his words carefully, and Molly patiently waited. “I wanted to show you something...”

“Does it have to involve peeling myself out of this beautiful bed?” Molly teasingly asked, making a show out of stretching and posing seductively.

“I’m sorry.” Caleb said, the tiefling’s show completely lost as he stared at the bed between them. “I think...I hope...it will be worth it?”

“Well,” Molly paused, as if tilting his head to consider. Really there wasn’t a doubt in his mind. “As long as you and I are guaranteed to get cozy in this bed later...I suppose I could part with it...”

He gleefully bounced out of bed, gratified to see the dusting of pink across Caleb’s cheeks at the mention of ‘ _getting_ _cozy_ ’.

And once again, as Molly followed Caleb, he was forced to admit that the wizard was right. It was still worth it. Caleb tugged him over to one of the curtains that covered the walls, and tugged it back to reveal another cleverly hidden door that Molly had missed. Silently he pulled Molly through it, and then Molly immediately forgot all about the bed.

There was no longer a doubt in his mind: this was the real reason Caleb had brought him here.

Speechless with delight, Molly was standing dumbfounded, in the middle of a small bath house. Really, a private bath house with all the unpleasantries taken out. Branched candlesticks, and a huge fireplace with two low couches in front of it, provided ample light for the room, making fiery warmth dance on the walls. The floor was gleaming smooth marble, turned pink under the firelight, that gave way to a round depression. And the hole was filled with water that vented steam and herbal smells into the air, promising bliss to anyone willing to enter, with no other prying eyes to see.

“Holy shite...” Molly breathed, almost floating into the room.

Caleb followed him, keeping a shrinking hold of his hand.

“How—“

“I don’t know.” The wizard said, brow contorting in a frown. “I assume it is some kind of magic they use, to keep the water hot...but I really am not sure...so...”

By that time Molly was only half paying attention, and Caleb’s words faded into silence. For several long seconds Molly only took it in wordlessly. The old sting rising in his throat, as he was confronted once more by how...how fucking _good_ Caleb was. The poor boy could say any shit about himself that he liked, Molly didn’t believe a word of it, when faced with consideration like this.

“Do you...” Caleb rasped, voice weighted with apprehension, as his words came reluctantly. “Do you like it?”

Gods this poor fucking boy. Still seeking Molly’s approval, as if he didn’t already have it...

“Darling...” Molly breathed, reverent in the humid air, “this is...fucking incredible...”

“So you like it...”

“Of course I like it!”

Silence made Molly tear his eyes away from the room to look at Caleb. Which made him realize that the wizard was chewing nervously on his lower lip, holding a nervous grasp of Molly’s hand in both his own. He was faltering. Preoccupied.

“Sweetheart?”

“I want—“ Caleb clumsily searched for words, still hovering over Molly’s hand, as if it were the only part of the tiefling he felt safe to look at. “I want you to like it...”

“Love, if that’s all your worried about, I don’t—“

Molly’s protest was interrupted, as Caleb suddenly tugged him forward. Bringing them together, a few feet from the edge of the bath, hovering in each other’s space. Something so close, but not straightforward, and charged enough to take Molly’s breath away.

Slowly, hand visibly shaking, Caleb reached up to dig under Molly’s collar. It was a confusing gesture for two seconds, before Molly felt the rasp of his necklace, and Caleb tugged it out to gently unclasp. Relieved of the jewelry, Caleb carefully began to unlace Molly’s shirt, and then tug it out of Molly’s breeches. Ordinarily it would be a burningly sexual movement, but the way Caleb removed Molly’s shirt was so careful, and so slow that it lacked any kind of arousal.

Instead it was a different kind of heat. As Caleb moved to unclasp his belt, and carefully pull it free. And Molly began to understand. With Caleb’s attentive care and complete lack of apparent sexual desire, he started to put the pieces together.

And he realized: this was Caleb, literally serving him.

Holy fuck. It made Molly’s chest seize up, sudden and painful, with so much emotion it hurt. Caleb had meant all of this literally. One giant stunt, to pamper Molly as lavishly as possible, in every smallest way. Far from being sexual, this was something much more intimate. A thing so tender, Molly could hardly breathe with it.

The wizard had reached Molly’s ridiculous rainbow trousers, beginning to carefully unbutton them, and peel them away from Molly’s skin. It was hardly the first time the tiefling had disrobed in front of another person. He was in fact, what might be called, totally shameless. But there was something much more soulful about Caleb’s movements. And in spite of all the baldly suggestive things Molly could think of to say, heavy handed innuendo rising to the tip of his bladed tongue, he didn’t say a thing. Weirdly this wasn’t the time for that.

“Oh...ah...” Caleb stammered jerkily, as Molly’s breeches dropped away.

“Yes dear,” Molly said with a grin, looking down at himself with detached interested.

“You are enjoying yourself then.”

“Have you taken a look at that fucking bed?!” The tiefling burst out defensively. “I mean, good god, who wouldn’t have dicks out for that?”

A beat of silence fell, when Caleb didn’t answer. Fully naked and exposed to the room, Molly watched attentively as the wizard’s mind spun behind his eyes, struggling as ever to parse out what the human was thinking. Mostly he was just staring fixedly at Molly’s erection, as if it were a snake he was deciding how to handle. But in this moment of tension as breakable as glass, as Molly watched Caleb face the snake, he wasn’t sure the wizard was going to run.

“I can take care of myself, of course,” Molly murmured kindly, unsure if Caleb wanted the out. “You could even watch me, if you want.”

Caleb sucked in a heated breath, eyes darting up to Molly’s face, a little darker than they’d been a second ago.

“Maybe.” The human whispered. “That might be good...”

“You’d like that?” Molly couldn’t help but tease.

For a second Caleb froze up. As he looked back down at Molly’s body, and didn’t say a thing. Then he jerked himself forward, like someone trying to jump in an ice bath, that knew they had to get it over. His hand wrapped around Molly’s arm, and he tugged the tiefling forward to the very edge of the pool.

“This first.” The wizard croaked.

Caleb was pushing for Molly to immediately give in, and step into the bath, but the tiefling couldn’t help but pause. Turning back on the very edge, he reached out to trail his fingers across Caleb’s cheek, watching for the wizard’s reaction. It was exactly what Molly had been expecting, and hoping for. Caleb immediately gave in completely, body and breath both softening, as he swayed completely into Molly’s hand.

“I’m in charge then?” Molly said, and it came out as question, instead of a statement. Searching for the wizard’s skittish desires, so carefully hidden beneath the surface.

“I don’t want to—you shouldn’t—you don’t have to trouble yourself—” Caleb started to protest.

But the embarrassed refusal was answer enough, and Molly silenced the wizard, by taking him under the chin and forcing his head up. It was as easy and gentle as falling into feather pillows, something so simple to claim. As Molly cupped the wizard’s chin, and commanded the wizard’s eyes without saying a word, searching out the blue depths of him.

“I’ve got you, darling,” Molly whispered, carefully in control without restricting. “I’m in charge. I’ll take care of you.”

Caleb’s pleasure was by no means an overt thing. But Molly was very experienced at reading the signs by now. The wizard’s pupils dilated with interest, already slipping out of control, shoulders rising as the burden left him and then hunching again as the new heat of Molly’s words settled in. That was exactly what Molly wanted to see. In the space of one breath, Molly watched all the tension fade away, replaced by trust in its absence.

“Now,” the tiefling murmured, “you’ve already got me undressed...so finish what you started...”

Mollymauk Tealeaf had never been handed out of a carriage before...or even a wagon for that matter...For one, there weren’t many occasions for anyone to treat him like a fancy lady, or for Caleb to behave like a fancy gentleman; and for another thing, the Mighty Nein were proudly a group of assholes, that rarely went out of their way to be polite to anyone. Mostly it was every man for himself.

And if Molly had been alone in this fancy hotel room, at the edge of this fancy bath, with no one to know for better or worse, he would have canon-balled into the water. Because he hated being stuffy, and for seventeen gold he could afford to get some water on the floor. But at that moment, Caleb helped him into the bath with as much chivalry as a knight, politely supporting Molly’s hand as he stepped in, with a practice that made Mollymauk think that the wizard had done similar things before.

It was extremely polite, and extremely unlike Molly’s usual libertine style. And yet...it was Caleb. A beautiful, wonderfully broken man, going out of his way to make Molly feel special. Which was working. Because at that moment, with Caleb attentively helping him, Molly had never felt so intensely cared for.

The sensation was almost overpowering, and Molly sank limply into the water when Caleb released his hand. His usual grace was turning wobbly and difficult under Caleb’s painfully focused attention. Hastily he regrouped himself, stretching his arms above his head in a way that he knew played well against the tattoos on his skin, with the added bonus of water beading down his arms.

It definitely worked. When Molly lazily turned around in the water, Caleb’s eyes were unmistakably fixed on the trailing feathers of Molly’s peacock tattoo. He was looking at Molly like the tiefling was a work of art, which made Molly feel sexy, and _sexy_ was a sensation Molly could take advantage of. He could do sexy all fucking day.

Invitingly, Molly held his hand out. It felt like coaxing something skittish, fearful and animalistic, to trust him. Caleb answered by shuffling to the edge of the pool, and settling cross legged on the edge. His fingers twined with Molly’s, and he tugged the tiefling forward. A low bench ran around the inside of the pool, and Molly found it easy to settle, leaning into Caleb’s space, as the wizard sat on the edge.

Carefully Caleb reached up, fingers brushing against Molly’s hair. The tiefling felt a tug around one of his horns, and then Caleb’s hand came away, with one of Molly’s glittering gold ornaments in his fingers. Setting the ring on the edge of the pool by his knee, Caleb reached forward again, and this time Mollymauk helpfully tilted his head.

The pile of jewelry grew, until finally Molly’s horns were bare, and his skin was burning. And still so attentive, Caleb returned to brush his fingers carefully through Molly’s hair. The tiefling hummed appreciatively, pressing his head into Caleb’s fingers, as a tingle of warmth rose in the back of his neck.

“Come in,” Molly hissed, soft as steam, but it wasn’t an invitation. It was a command, reaching up to flirt with Caleb’s cheek. “Join me.”

Caleb faltered, eyes nervously scattering away.

“Come on, darling,” Molly coaxed in a whisper, “trust me.”

The words fell away, as Caleb replied with his actions instead. Tilting his head, he pressed a kiss into Molly’s fingers lingering by the wizard’s cheek, slow and heated. Then another, into the hollow of Molly’s palm. And further down against the inside of his wrist, each progression pulling the teifling slightly closer.

Burning disappointment filled Molly’s mouth like a dust, as Caleb pulled away. The wizard’s hand disengaged itself, Molly reluctantly loosing his hold, as the skittish man pulled away. Then Caleb shakily stood up, and walked away to one of the fireside couches, where he reached to tug off his scarf.

Mollymauk grinned as sharp as the Devil himself.

The wizard had his eyes stubbornly fixed on the scarf in his hands, avoidant of anything but the fabric in his fingers. As he methodically folded it up in a neat square, laying it carefully on the couch, and moving to shrug off his coat. The heavy fabric bulked him up, and once it was gone, Molly felt a pang go through his heart, pained to see how thin and shrunken Caleb was underneath this heavy protective covering. All the same ritual was gone through again, as Caleb folded his coat carefully, and laid it exactly on top of the scarf. With every new piece of clothing: his book holsters, his belt, the various pouches of spell components, his rough jerkin, he performed the same motions. Until he’d finally stripped down to just his breeches, and the linen bandages around his wrists, that began to unspool and fall apart as he unwound them carefully.

And there he stuck fast. Fiddling uncertainly with the fastenings on his trousers.

Part of Molly felt a twinge of pained sympathy, at Caleb’s obvious reluctance to expose himself, and another part already understood what was necessary. So he turned around, letting the water splash as he turned his back, and pretended to be uninterested. The rustle of Caleb worming out of his last piece of clothing was Molly’s reward, as the wizard carefully stripped in his fragile bubble of privacy.

When the wizard returned to the edge of the pool, he’d tucked a towel around his waist, and had a bundled up rag. Inside, he revealed several jars that Molly presumed were soaps, and other luxuries that came with the fancy bath, which he arranged on the edge of the pool. Then Caleb carefully sat, swinging his legs over into the pool, and Molly subtly let his eyes wander away as he averted his face. Until Caleb had slithered into the water, with a flash of white human skin that Molly just caught out of the corner of his eye, that left the tiefling hungry.

“Now you can wash my hair.” Molly purred, floating into Caleb’s side, and propping his head against the wizard’s arm.

Caleb’s obedience felt like something sacred. He was so careful, and so hesitant, as he reached out to trail his fingers through the lavender curls. Then he turned to retrieve one of the soaps he’d brought with him, and Molly took the opportunity to duck under the water, and get his hair wet. Turning back Caleb began to work the soap into a lather, carefully working around every inch of Molly’s scalp.

While Molly sat back, and unrepentantly enjoyed it. He loved luxury, and he was becoming equally attached to Caleb. So the combination of Caleb’s attention, the heat of the bath water, and the elegance of the room were more than enough to make Molly feel like he’d landed in heaven.

Then Caleb’s hands wandered lower. As he traveled over the planes of Molly’s neck, and shoulders, letting soap lather across the tiefling’s skin. Molly was more than worked up enough to feel the heat immediately, desire returning like an old scent lingering on clothes. Gods...Caleb was perfect...

Molly drifted away, plunging under the water to rinse all the soap lather away. When he emerged, he settled back against the side of the pool, lounging with his arms outstretched across the stone edges. Caleb drifted around to kneel in front of him. And Molly watched carefully, stretched and waiting like a cat in sunlight.

“Come here,” Molly commanded a second time, beckoning with one hand. “Come sit in my lap.”

The wizard flushed bright red, and he wouldn’t meet Molly’s eyes, as his hands lingered uncertainly on Molly’s knees.

Like a poised snake, Molly leaned forward, once again drawing the wizard with a hand on his cheek. “Come. Here.” He murmured, low and possessive.

Jerkily, Caleb gave in. Even then, the wizard was extremely careful. Hanging back on the edge of Molly’s knees, to avoid touching the teifling’s groin, and hovering so that his own genitals wouldn’t touch Molly’s skin. That was fine. It wasn’t the contact that Molly really wanted, though grinding his flesh against Caleb’s _would_ have been nice. This was about authority, not sexual contact, the vulnerability of Caleb sitting like a child in Molly’s lap.

Wordlessly, Molly drew the wizard’s face forward, and shakily Caleb gave in. Leaning awkwardly, under Molly’s guidance, to let the tiefling have his mouth. And Molly dove straight in. Coaxing with lips and tongue, and guiding with the hand on Caleb’s chin, while Caleb completely submitted. Lax and pliant, giving easily under Molly’s hold, and following the teifling’s lead.

When Molly pulled away, Caleb obediently let Molly drift out of reach. Holding Caleb still, just a scant inch away, Molly examined him. The wizard had his eyes closed, mouth still slightly open as if to make himself available, lips kiss flushed and shiny.

Carefully, Molly brushed Caleb’s lower lip with his thumb, considering the wizard’s face, and Caleb made an aborted movement to close his lips around Molly’s thumb. That was too much for Molly to miss, and the tiefling immediately returned with two fingers, brushing in the same way across Caleb’s pinked lower lip. Caleb’s lips closed around the tips of Molly’s fingers, hesitantly harboring Molly’s touch, and the soft compliance made Molly’s gut clench

“Suck on them.” Molly breathed without ceremony.

Caleb obeyed, unexpectedly willing to follow Molly’s commands. The wizard’s head ducked down, and he sucked Molly’s two fingers into his mouth, carefully holding them there. Caleb’s tongue, pliant and liquid, pressed up to toy with the fingers in his mouth. Then Caleb unmistakably shivered, sucking down much harder, and pleasuring Molly’s fingers with his tongue.

The soft, wet sound Caleb’s mouth made around Molly’s fingers, was undeniably sexual. That slick indignity, combined with the eroticism of watching Caleb’s lips part around the tiefling’s fingers, made Molly groan. He was burning beneath the water, and it was only too easy to imagine Caleb’s mouth opening in the same way around Molly’s cock. Just as warm, just as skillful, and so much more welcome around Molly’s member beneath the water.

At the sound of Molly’s arousal, Caleb suddenly pulled away, releasing the fingers in his mouth and panting. It was a carefully charged moment. As Caleb breathed heavily, and Molly watched him, tail in knots with desire he carefully contained.

“You are hard, _ja_?” Caleb asked shakily.

“Should I take care of it?” Molly said, carefully watching Caleb’s face.

Even that sounded amazing at this point, with how worked up he was. Caleb was still searching wordlessly, fingers nervously twitching without anything to occupy them, and Molly watched with his head on one side.

“You’re still invited to watch,” Molly offered, trying to coax out the wizard’s thoughts.

“ _Nein_.”

“No, you don’t want to watch?”

Only a dumb shake of the head answered him. Then Caleb reached for the towel he’d left at the edge of the pool. He didn’t outright rise from the water, and Molly guessed at the concern holding Caleb in place. So he turned his face away, and the wizard climbed out of the water. When Molly turned back, Caleb was carefully wrapped up in the towel, tucked securely around his waist like a skirt.

“Color?” Molly prompted, as Caleb padded away across the room, leaving a trail of wet foot prints behind him.

The wizard paused, glancing at him with a surprised look, before answering “green.” As if that should have been the obvious answer. As he spoke he tugged a bathrobe from where it had been hanging beside the door, and began shuffling back to the pool with it wadded up in his hands. Which made Molly suddenly go limp with relief, as he realized what the wizard had been doing.

Once again Caleb held out his hand, for Molly to hold onto as he left the bath. There was an urgency to Caleb’s movements this time, as he helped Molly climb onto the marble floor, and helped put on the robe. His eyes were fixed anywhere but Molly’s face, but it wasn’t nervous avoidance now. It looked almost guilty...Shrinking but determined, as he grabbed Molly’s hand and started dragging him toward the fire.

“Caleb—“ Molly tried to question.

Before Caleb, shoved him backwards into one of the couches in front of the fire. Molly landed in a sprawling heap, with his breath coming short, about to protest. Then Caleb dropped to his knees on the floor in front of him, and the wizard pushed him back into the couch, as their lips connected. _Heatedly_.

Half of Molly was singing. The half that was needy, and primal. The half that was whining against Caleb’s mouth, pulling on the wizard’s hair, and spreading his own legs apart to make room. That half was nearly euphoric, aroused and attracted.

The other half was screaming with panic. The half that was balanced, and rational. The half that was fiercely attached to Caleb, and dreaded hurting this beautiful broken man as deeply as he would loathe the idea of cutting off his own arm. That half was commanding him to stop, slow down, and be careful. 

“Caleb—“ he tried again, voice disappearing as Caleb lightly caught the tiefling’s tongue between his own human teeth. “Caleb—I don’t—“

The wizard growled at Molly’s continued attempts to talk, trying to press his mouth in at a better angle. Molly tried to pull away, and Caleb’s whimper in response was something desperate. Something painful. As he struggled to crawl into Molly’s lap, and then sobbed brokenly, like he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Fuck—Caleb please—“ Molly gasped, as he heard Caleb’s sob, and the tension in his spine solidified.

The human was still trying to push himself closer, even now, with another sob in his throat. Hands griping and relaxing around Molly’s robe, as if he couldn’t make himself hold on, but was desperately trying. For a moment Molly was sliding downward, weightless, lost and panicked. And then he jolted into something solid and real.

“Caleb. Red.” He bit out, sharp and clear as a bell.

The silence that followed the command was almost deafening. It left Molly’s ears ringing, and his body spinning, with just how effective it was. Caleb slumped back on his knees, like a puppet with all his strings cut. And for one moment it was only heavy breathing, panic fading into silence, and Molly’s control hanging around the world like a weight pinning reality together.

“Now then,” Molly said, shakily forcing himself to harden.

Caleb’s eyes had fastened on his hands once again. Everything curling guiltily into himself, as if he were waiting to be hurt. It was pitiful. And Molly couldn’t stand it.

“Am I in trouble?” Caleb rasped, so fearful it hardly even sounded like him.

“No!” Molly contradicted vehemently. Caleb flinched, and Molly forced himself to soften again. “No of course you’re not ‘ _in_ _trouble_ ’ darling...You’re just...” he shivered and dragged his hands over his face, “I got scared...I got scared, because I don’t know what you want.”

“I’m sorry...” Caleb whispered, in a voice of such sincerity, Molly ached.

“Well, I forgive you, darling. Of course.” Molly said with a pale smile. “We just need to talk more openly now, yeah?”

“ _Ja_ , ok,” Caleb said, shifting nervously on his knees.

“Start with color...Are you still green?”

For a moment Caleb chewed on his lip thoughtfully, before saying, “yellow...I think...”

“Are you sure?” The tiefling prompted. “Because you _sounded_ red.”

“I was...scared too...” Caleb admitted, voice going softer.

“You were scared.” Molly processed. “Why were you scared? Because of something you didn’t want, that was happening?”

Mutely Caleb shook his head. Then he jumped as he remembered himself, before Molly could have corrected him, and hissed “ _Nein_.”

“Because of something you _did_ want that was happening...”

“ _Ja_.” Caleb choked, voice barely more than a fragile thread.

For a moment longer Caleb struggled within himself, then he jerkily leaned forward. His head met Molly’s shoulder, and his thin arms spidered around Molly’s back. Until they were pressed into each other, with Caleb’s head under Molly’s chin, and Molly gently running his fingers through the wizards hair.

“I wanted... Caleb faltered. Before he turned his head to stammer his whispered words against Molly’s neck, “I wanted—I wanted to—I wanted to...suck your cock...”

“Caleb—“ Molly protested, as his understanding finally clicked into place, and all of Caleb’s fearful desperation suddenly became clear. “Gods, baby, you don’t ever—“

“ _Nein_ ,” Caleb interrupted, convulsively gripping his arms chokingly tight around Molly’s frame. “Molly, I _need_ to. Please.”

“If you’re ever scared, that’s not something you should push.”

“But I am always going to be scared Mollymauk,” Caleb sobbed, voice raw and unfiltered. “I am always scared. Of everything. And I can’t turn it off, and I can’t stop it, and I can’t find a way around it. So I just have to try...I have to try anyway...”

Molly gripped tighter around Caleb’s shoulders, hand pausing in its gentle affection through Caleb’s hair, and he cupped the back of the wizard’s head possessively.

“I want to try.” Caleb said, voice calming to a gentle murmur after the brutal honesty, as if the openness had given relief.

“You want to try, or you feel like you’re _supposed_ to try?”

“I want to try,” Caleb said. Pressing a shrinking kiss to the side of Molly’s neck, he added in a hungry whisper, “I want to do so many things with you. I want to. But I am...still afraid...”

“And you still want to. With the fear?”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb admitted, shifting restlessly against Molly’s grip without actually drawing away. “ _Bitte_...I want to try...”

At that moment Molly understood what Caleb meant, about wanting something that he was afraid of. Because even now the two halves of himself were having very different reactions. One side more than happy to get Caleb’s mouth around his dick as quickly as possible, while the other side was arguing for the exact opposite.

“Please?” Caleb said again, and this time he sounded as if he was sure Molly would say no.

But Molly didn’t.

Instead, he hooked a finger under Caleb’s chin, and drew the human’s head out from his shoulder. Until he could lock eyes with the man for a half second, and stroke Caleb’s cheek.

“You wouldn’t do this, just to please me, right?” Molly questioned, careful to make sure he understood.

“That is kind of the point...”

“No, that’s not the point.” Molly contradicted. “I meant: some kind of twisted obligation, because you think this is the only way to be good for me.”

“But I...like to be good for you...” Caleb protested, with such genuine confusion, it made Molly scold himself for not setting these boundaries sooner.

“That’s what I mean. This is something you _want_ right?” Molly tried to explain, making up for his tardiness, by making it clear now. “I’m in control for _you_. If you want it, I’ll give you that. But I don’t want you to give something against your will, or follow me farther than you’re willing to go.”

Caleb didn’t answer, frowning as his mind spun behind his eyes.

“You want to be good, yes?”

“ _Ja_.”

“You want me to be in control here, yes?”

“ _Ja_.”

“And you _want_ to try touching me, yes...”

Caleb shivered, and his “ _ja_ ” came out as a warm hiss.

“Then if it’s what you _want_ ,” Molly leaned forward to give Caleb his mouth. Their lips locking slowly, and more intimate than anything else, until Caleb drew away to breathe. “Then I will be happy to help you explore.”

“Can you...” the wizard stammered awkwardly, “can you tell me what to do...”

“If you want me to control you?”

Caleb nodded, mute, and blushing.

“You have to tell me how you’re feeling.” Molly commanded firmly.

“I will.”

For a moment Molly could only examine Caleb’s face. Hovering on the edge of the cliff. It was a sharply intimate moment, Caleb laid completely bare at Molly’s feet. Already naked, without exposing himself, hidden by the towel wrapped around his waist but so vulnerable in every other sense. Hunched at Molly’s feet, and only too obviously convinced that his request wouldn’t be granted.

“Kiss me again.” Molly commanded. “Slowly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The buildup is real y’alls.


	20. À Votre Goût

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _'Cause I'm all that you want, boy. All that you can have, boy. Got me spread like a buffet._   
>  _Bon a, bon appétit, baby._   
>  _Appetite for seduction, fresh out the oven, melt in your mouth kind of lovin'._   
>  _Bon a, bon appétit, baby._
> 
> [Bon Appétit](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=9PACaJ8lQBw), by Katy Perry.
> 
> (This is Molly’s JAM ok? Seriously. Ya boi would love this fucking song.)

Caleb came to him so easily, it was like Molly’s words were magic, the command to kiss an enchantment that held full sway. And Molly could tell that his words were having an affect already. Caleb moved like he was locking lips with something holy, a thing so sacred, it had to be handled with upmost care.

“Savor me,” Molly breathed into Caleb’s mouth, “enjoy me, pretty boy...I’m not going anywhere...”

This time Molly could tell that Caleb got the message. His movements slowed, relaxing into something easy, almost lazy. But for all the leisure, Caleb’s mouth was ten times more greedy. It was thoughtless now, no stiffness left. Caleb’s mouth against his own, something slick and beautiful, making an audible sound against the silence of the room. But unlike his usual reserve, the sounds came, and Caleb didn’t care.

Molly wondered exactly how long they could stay here. If he gave no more directions, Caleb seemed perfectly content to wait for eternity. But he wasn’t so patient, and Caleb’s hands clenching up around Molly’s robe suggested that the human wasn’t either. 

“Caleb, dearest,” Molly purred, answered with a pleased hum from Caleb. He cupped the back of Caleb’s neck, and pulled him in, to whisper in his ear. “Undress me.”

The wizard released a tiny hiss against Molly’s neck, shuddering into the tiefling’s grip. Obediently he brought his hands up, calloused spell scarred fingers pausing to fiddle with the shoulders of Molly’s robe as if Caleb were enjoying the texture, before they dropped down to carefully pull apart the soft fabric sash that held the robe closed. With gentle tugs and brushes, Caleb pressed the folded halves of the robes apart to reveal inch after reverent inch of skin.

It felt like a luxury, to be the object of Caleb’s attention. He was so completely absorbed, in the way that only spells and old books claimed his attention, and Molly was more than enjoying it. Like a hidden treasure Caleb seemed to be taking his time with the tiefling, and Molly grinned into the ruddy hair brushing against his cheek, allowing himself to sink into the sensation of being opened like a present.

Allowing the robe to slide off his shoulders, until it pillowed around his elbows, Molly carefully lounged back against the couch cushions, leaving Caleb kneeling in front of him. The tiefling was painting a carefully erotic picture, shamelessly showing off for the redhead in front of him. With his clothes tastefully scanty, posture relaxed to the point of being lazy, and legs thoughtlessly spread apart to fully display the package between them. Judging by Caleb’s fixed attention, the tiefling was pleased to believe that Caleb thought Molly was the most attractive thing in the room.

He let Caleb admire for a minute. It was just too fun to resist making the wizard wait. Then Molly reached out, getting a hand around the back of Caleb’s neck, and slowly pulling him downward into Molly’s reclined space. Until Caleb was hovering just inches away from lavender flesh, close enough to smell the tiefling’s skin and perfume from the bath, his breath panting shallow and heated against Molly’s skin, with the tiefling’s hand like a possessive weight on the back of the wizard’s neck,

“Touch me,” Molly breathed.

“W-where—“ Caleb stammered, half choking on his own breath, and struggling to keep still.

“Anywhere you want to, sweet one.” Molly said, carefully brushing the hair out of Caleb’s face to get a better look at it.

For a moment their eyes met, and Caleb flushed. Molly smiled back, letting his hand drift to find the back of Caleb’s head, and giving a small, guiding tug. Under the tiefling’s hand, Caleb bent, crouching forward over Molly’s spreadeagle body.

Then Caleb’s lips met Molly’s skin, and he pressed a shrinking kiss into the hollow above the tiefling’s collar bone. Even that made Mollymauk’s toes curl. A second, bolder kiss landed on the column of Molly’s neck, followed by others that traveled across the soft underside of Molly’s jaw and down the gracefully curving lines of his peacock tattoo. Until the wizard abandoned Molly’s neck with a farewell rasp of teeth that made Molly’s blood go warm.

Sinking downwards, Caleb pressed a soft kiss to Molly’s nipple, and the piercing through it. Molly convulsively gripped around Caleb’s hair, the tiefling’s breath immediately turning sharp and heavy with interest. The wizard mouthed at the raised peak of flesh in response, lips nuzzling around the solid resistance of Molly’s piercing. Molly moaned softly, biting his lip, and gripping more tightly around Caleb’s hair.

Caleb kept playing with Molly’s nipples for what felt like hours, clearly comfortable and enjoying his side of the performance. He gently kissed, and pressed, and then sucked; which turned into gentle nudging licks, and tugs of his teeth. And Molly just lounged, stroking his hand through Caleb’s hair, as he savored the sensation of his own cock fattening to needy fullness.

Finally though, the tiefling was satisfied enough, or maybe desperate enough, to say “don’t keep me waiting too long, sweetheart.” And he pushed Caleb’s head down at the same time.

Quick to obey, Caleb’s mouth drifted downward, following the ladder of Molly’s ribs. He pressed a kiss against Molly’s side, free hand ghosting down on the other side. Until Caleb’s hand settled over Mollymauk’s bony hip, and the wizard’s mouth met the protruding bone of Molly’s pelvis. It was frustratingly close, Caleb’s hair rasping faintly against the lavender cock just inches away, while the reflected heat of his breath drove Molly nearly mad.

But Caleb, cautious, careful Caleb, drifted away again. His blue eyes carefully avoided even a passing glance at Molly’s dick. Slowly he worked down Molly’s leg instead, with little kisses and brushes of skin. Molly had sensitive skin along the inside of his thighs, and Caleb’s lips meeting skin there, made the tiefling’s blood turn heavy. Breath coming warm with desire, as Caleb mouthed just inches from Molly’s groin, almost reaching the hips joint.

Molly’s erection was completely flushed, the head an angry violet with need, jumping with Caleb’s little touches and leaking slightly. But Caleb took his time. The wizard’s mouth delicately crawled up Molly’s thighs, pausing at every kiss, to lick and pleasure with his tongue, and rasp with his teeth.

The approaching buildup had Molly falling apart into a shaking mess within seconds. The tiefling’s settled composure was already giving away to heavy breathing, clenched fists, and trembling thighs, as his cock throbbed so deeply Molly would have sworn Caleb could hear it. He was struggling to maintain himself, clenching and unclenching hands curled into the couch cushions.

Finally, blessedly, like a miracle, Molly felt Caleb kiss his cock.

It was a clumsy thing, small and fleeting, pressed against the closest bit of Molly’s skin that was within reach. But it was more than enough to make Molly groan, hips jerking against nothing, as his erection leaked a dribble of pre-come. And the wizard was carefully watching, taking in everything.

Caleb pressed Molly’s legs apart, the gesture heavy with meaning, as his hands skated up to grasp Molly’s hips. Then his fingers brushed against the head of Molly’s cock, and he shrinkingly ran his fingers through the slick of Molly’s pre-seed. That made the tiefling moan raggedly from the bottom of his chest, watching fixedly. Pausing, Caleb examined his fingers, and Molly hissed.

“Taste it.” The tiefling growled darkly.

The wizard’s eyes came up to lock with Molly’s, and his tongue darted out to taste with a flicker of his tongue. Molly snarled, a harsh, arousal heavy sound. Something flashed in Caleb’s eyes, an expression that Molly could only call _smug_.

And then the wizard suddenly opened his mouth, to suck his fingers in completely. His tongue peeking out wet and pink to glean Molly’s slick from his fingers, imitating the action of sucking a cock, as his blue eyes locked with Molly’s red ones. Molly whined, arousal thrilling in his groin, as he watch Caleb suck himself, and they both got off on the performance.

“Come’ere,” Molly commanded, rolling his hips demandingly, as his patience snapped.

More than willing, the wizard came at once. Shuffling forward on his knees, Caleb pressed in as Molly helpfully spread his legs, settling between the tiefling’s thighs. Shyly the wizard reached up to find Molly’s hand, and he tugged it close as their fingers laced together. It was something painfully trusting and nakedly honest, Caleb silently clinging to Mollymauk’s support, and the tiefling possessively allowed his fingers to harden into a firm grip around Caleb’s hand.

“Color?” Molly breathed.

“Green.” And Caleb’s fingers squeezed slightly around Molly’s.

Carefully, Caleb bent down just enough, until he pressed a kiss to the fattened head of Molly’s erection, the sensation of his mouth only magnified under the force of his full analytical focus. Molly could feel himself already moaning heatedly, cock easily turning slick with pre-come under Caleb’s attention, and he arched into the touch as his tail whipped restlessly against the pillowed couch. While Caleb pressed in against Molly’s leaking head, painting his lips with Molly’s slick, as he coaxed the tiefling into unraveling farther.

“Fuck—“ Molly swore, voice disappearing into a moan.

Caleb hummed, and the faint vibrations made Molly cry as his pleasure spiked.

“I want your tongue,” the tiefling demanded breathlessly.

Words disappeared as Caleb obeyed. A long slow pass of the broad of his tongue, that made Molly throb approvingly. Slowly the wizard began to explore, cautious at first, and then with growing confidence as Molly continued to vocally approve. He carefully swirled his tongue over the aching head of Molly’s cock, to lap up the beaded pre-spend. Slowly he worked down the shaft with the stimulation of his tongue, and finally pressed the broad heat against Molly’s pleasure heavy balls.

Molly considered himself officially dead. The only way he could have reached this paradise, was through his soul leaving his body, after the last throes of death. With Caleb attentively tonguing his cock in broad strokes, and gently rasping the edges of his teeth over Molly’s skin, Molly was confirmed in his suspicions. Under Caleb’s attention the tiefling’s cock was throbbing to a hot steady rhythm, broadcasting pleasure over the entirety of his body, as the shaft burned greedily.

And then, Caleb chose that moment to abandon the teasing pretense, and wrap the heat of his mouth around the head of Molly’s cock.

“Oh fuck—“ Molly sobbed, back arching, and his hips unintentionally jumped upwards into Caleb’s mouth. “Keep doing that.”

A slick filthy wet sound filled the room, as Caleb finally sucked, full and filthy at Molly’s head. Gods, Caleb was going to fucking kill him, if the wizard kept shamelessly making sounds like that with his mouth. It was the perfect kind of debauchery. Caleb locking lips around Molly’s head, and sucking obediently, as his tongue massaged in tandem with his lips.

Caleb carefully began to settle in, trying to pull more of Molly’s cock into his mouth. Lips and tongue working, in the same way he’d pleasured Molly’s fingers, and showed off with his own. Molly groaned, struggling for enough coherence to speak, as he gasped out “not too deep, baby. You’ll gag yourself.”

Then he forgot about trying to talk at all, distracted with the effort of keeping his eyes anywhere but Caleb’s mouth opening around his dick, or he guessed he would probably snap immediately. And yet, he couldn’t put his eyes anywhere else. He was watching Caleb with religious fixation, heartbeat and arousal throbbing wildly in the base of his cock, as Caleb carefully took in more.

Caleb finally reached his limit, going still and warm around as much of Molly as he was willing to take. It wasn’t the most impressive depth by any means, but Molly couldn’t give a fuck about that. This was Caleb, and the intimacy was so brave for him, Molly couldn’t do anything but swell with pride to see Caleb go so far.

“Color.” Molly pressed gently.

The wizard’s eyes came back, and he grumbled irritatedly around the cock in his mouth, obviously signifying that he couldn’t talk. And wasn’t willing to shift his position until he could. It was a surprisingly humorous moment, in the middle of the heat, and Molly was tempted to laugh out loud.

“Squeeze my hand if you’re green.”

Caleb immediately squeezed. At the same time, the broad of his tongue shifted, liquid and burning, against the stiffness of Molly’s shaft. The tiefling shuddered, and it took every ounce of strength in him to restrain himself from immediately forgetting all about rational speech. As it was, he only barely managed to gasp, “you can stop if you’re red. Don’t signal me, just stop what you’re doing, and pull off.”

The wizard only sucked down impatiently around Molly in response, producing another of those slick wet sounds that were unmistakably sexual...if anyone but themselves had cared to listen...

“Shit...” Molly swore, his erection screaming at him to move, as Caleb’s mouth and tongue did something magical to the shaft just below the head.

He had to breathe for several seconds, before he could get his composure back, and focus on Caleb again. And Molly reached out with his shaking free hand to stroke Caleb’s hair, in a way that felt very much like stroking a cat. But Caleb didn’t seem to find it embarrassing, and visibly relaxed into the touch, as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Do your job, pretty boy,” Molly purred, somehow pulling together enough control to sound seductive. “And use your hand to stroke where you can’t reach.”

It was the little push that Caleb needed. His free hand jumped from it’s limp position on Molly’s thigh, where it had been lingering all this time, very much as if Caleb had completely forgotten about it until that exact moment. Finally he appeared to remember it, and shifted to touch Molly’s cock. He ran the light pads of his fingertips all the way from just below his mouth, to the root of the tiefling’s cock, and Molly could palpably feel Caleb’s fixed attention cataloguing his reaction.

Then Caleb finally began to obey Molly’s order.

And there were parts of it that were very unpolished, the edges of Caleb’s inexperience showing through. Clearly the wizard was busy exploring at first. As he carefully ran his tongue and lips over the entire length of Molly that would fit in his mouth, gently exploring with his fingers everywhere else, as he mapped out the shape of Molly’s erection and his balls with lightly brushing fingers. There was no rhythm, and not enough constant stimulation for Molly to break. But Molly hardly noticed.

Soon enough, Caleb began to find his footing, and then Molly wasn’t tempted to complain. It was still a little unrefined, as the human found his rhythm. He didn’t fully cover his teeth either, which some less kind lovers would have bitched about, but Molly would have rather died than shatter Caleb’s fragile confidence. Besides, in the tiefling’s opinion the teeth were a nice addition. An opposition of sensation, that set his skin on fire. Warmth broken by just a hint of pain.

“Fucking shit—“ Molly hissed under his breath, hips jerking as Caleb palmed the weight of Molly’s balls and massaged. “Christ, you feel so good darling.”

Caleb’s posture went weak for a second, tension vanishing, as his eyes fluttered shut. Something like a stifled whine rumbled in the back of his throat, and his hand clenched up like a vice around where his fingers were laced together with Mollymauk’s.

Molly would have been a complete idiot, if he missed that.

The wizard wanted praise. Luckily absolutely no one, in all of Exandria, would be as willing or eager to give it as Mollymauk Tealeaf. Sweet words and affirmations were pressing at his lips already.

“You’re so good at this.” Molly got his free hand back into Caleb’s hair. Not to push him anywhere, but just something to ground him...a reminder...As he stroked the wizard’s scalp, and murmured fondly, “look at you...so good...so good for me...”

Caleb moaned.

The sound high pitched and heartfelt in the back of his throat. And Molly broke a little too, hips stuttering up into Caleb’s mouth, as the vibrations of the wizard’s pleasure only tightened the throbbing ache in his balls. He was falling apart, and he knew it, the last ties of his decorum loosening, as he crumbled to the burning need to come.

“You’re such a good boy—“ Molly cried, voice rising high pitched and needy, as he gripped Caleb’s hair.

The wizard vented an arousal heavy whimper, sucking slick and perfect around the head of Molly’s cock. Until Molly was boneless and aching, twitching up into Caleb’s mouth, as his pre-come rose easily under Caleb’s coaxing.

“Right there—“ Molly gasped, as Caleb’s tongue stroked repeatedly over the head of his cock. “Right there, baby,” he broke off into a moan, and his voice returned weak and thready. “Fuck, if you keep this up, I’m gonna fucking come...”

Caleb’s desperation at the words was unmistakable. Immediately focusing around everything that made Molly’s voice break. He was pushing for Molly to shatter, and at this point the tiefling was chasing it with him. Need ratcheting up tight and demanding at the base of his spine. Arching into Caleb’s mouth, as his balls ached, and the pleasure of Caleb’s mouth pushed him farther.

“You’re so good for me,” the tiefling sobbed, as Caleb whimpered needfully in response. “So brave, my good boy. My perfect boy—“

Caleb’s fingernails did it.

Digging harsh, painful, and fucking perfect into the tender skin of Molly’s balls. Finally the climax surged over him, everything shattering apart into white noise. As he arched his back, falling apart to the blissful pleasure of releasing himself, molten and heavy, into Caleb’s mouth. Molly moaned, loud and shameless, the pleasure cry of his climax echoing off the walls of the room.

And Caleb. Beautiful, dedicated Caleb, accepted him unreservedly. The obedient wizard still working hard to serve him, even through the climax. As his mouth worked around Molly’s cock, and he sat up higher on his knees to accept Molly’s spend. The wet sound of his mouth sucking around the tiefling’s cock, joining Molly’s moan in an undercurrent of shameless pleasure.

The high coiled tighter, and tighter, changing from a rush of freedom into a vice of constrictive sensation. And Molly gave into it. Until he was whimpering with a sensation that was such closely blended torturing euphoria and exquisite agony, that he couldn’t feel where one ended and the other began. As his balls cried emptily, and his overworked cock begged for mercy. Both out done, and over stimulated by Caleb’s mouth, pleasuring him until Molly would be forced to tell him to stop.

And finally Molly did.

Crying out with relief, and crushing disappointment on the same breath, as he lightly tugged at Caleb’s hair, and the wizard immediately pulled off.

Molly moaned, a sound of complete satisfaction now, as his head dropped limp against the couch cushions and he worked hard just to breathe. Caleb, equally unstrung and breathless, collapsed against Molly’s leg. The wizard’s cheek, fever warm and sticky with Molly’s pre-come and his own spit, pillowed against the tiefling’s thigh. While Caleb’s fingers twined closer with Molly’s, and he gasped into Molly’s skin, as the tiefling stroked his hair.

“Holy shit.” Molly deadpanned to the ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Caleb centric smut will be coming very soon! So keep a lookout for that!


	21. Parfaite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You heard the crickets of the early eve. They lurk around the opening in twos and threes. Clementine told you not to move with the breeze, I'll take you down to places where we dare not speak. The red light in the doorway says she's armed, but boy go try your luck, and you might get past. Step into the dwelling of the liger's mouth. Peer into the panic for a kick and swell._
> 
> [Good Intent](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TaxFR5ZKavQ), by Kimbra. 
> 
> (This song is my personal favorite, out of all the amazing songs I’ve posted from Kimbra so far).

For several seconds Molly reached blindly for words, finding nothing sacred enough to do Caleb justice. And the realization that Caleb had left him: Mollymauk the king of running his mouth, with absolutely nothing to say, made him laugh. A punch drunk, euphoric sound, still riding the high.

“I’m fucking speechless,” he declared, still giggling like a girl, “that was so fucking...Holy shit...”

Caleb hummed weakly in response, still completely lost in his own fog of satisfaction and voluntary loss of control.

“Come here, ya sweet boy—“ Molly demanded, tugging on Caleb’s hair to summon him.

Mollymauk leaned forward, gently dragging Caleb’s relaxed and heavy head up. The wizard looked almost half asleep, eyes glazed and half closed, face completely open. He looked so peaceful Molly almost didn’t recognize him, the aging effects of anxiety pulled away, until there was just nakedly trusting devotion.

And of all the gifts Molly had received, he suddenly knew that this was the greatest gift of all. Just receiving the trust Caleb was placing in him, as the wizard let his walls drop, was staggering. Watching as Caleb’s burdens suddenly slid away and released him, was an unexpected relief to Molly’s own ever vigilant concern over him.

The wizard looked blessedly calm, and Molly couldn’t help locking lips with him. A passionately tender and affectionate thing, as Molly kissed the wizard with the emotion of every unspoken word behind it, and Caleb responded as if Molly were the only thing he could see, everything else falling short of the tiefling’s radiance. Molly could strongly taste himself on Caleb’s tongue, but the tiefling had never been one to shrink from such things, and he unrepentantly enjoyed it.

Till he allowed the kiss to drift apart, so that he could speak.

“You did so good, baby.” He declared, propping his forehead against Caleb’s, as he cupped the wizard’s cheeks. “So good.”

Caleb tucked his face into Molly’s palm. It was adorably similar to a kitten, trying to hide its face from the world. Molly was melting with it. And he unreservedly showed it, stroking Caleb’s cheekbones with his thumbs, as he pressed his lips to Caleb’s forehead.

A small curious hum vibrated against the tiefling’s hand, where it was pressed against Caleb’s mouth. For a moment Molly thought that Caleb was about to ask a question, waiting for the sound of curiosity to become actual words. Then Molly watched, as Caleb moved, and he suddenly understood what had caught the wizards’s attention.

Caleb shifted, sitting up on his knees, and experimentally palmed his own painfully ridged erection through the intervening fabric of the towel around his waist. He looked nakedly surprised, as if completely shocked to find himself so aroused, and it quietly broke Molly heart for the thousandth time. Because it was only too obvious that Caleb hadn’t in the least expected to find that willingly providing another with pleasure, could be so enjoyable for himself.

Obviously he was realizing it now. As the press of his hand revealed just how turned on he actually was. After the split second of surprise, he flushed dark red with a little mewl of embarrassment. He pulled his hand away guiltily, as if the self pleasure had been a moment of weakness.

Molly couldn’t put up with that.

“Put your hand back,” he said gently.

The wizard glanced at him doubtfully, that old stubborn guilt still clinging around him, and Molly hastened banish it.

“You know it isn’t wrong...”

Finally Caleb obeyed, carefully cupping himself again. Until the shape of his erection was once more visible.

“You look so pretty, sweetheart.” The tiefling seductively praised.

A startled _meep_ of surprised pleasure slipped past Caleb’s lips, before he could hold it back, and his cock visibly twitched. Molly was starting to trace the subtle dampness that spotted Caleb’s towel, that was hard to see at first, but unmistakable once he caught it. And at that moment Caleb, with a hand on his cock, and Molly blatantly admiring it, looked painfully tempted to touch himself. Traditional decorum be damned.

“You look like you need help with that,” Molly suggested.

Caleb frowned, and glanced sidelong at Molly’s face.

“I’m offering to make you feel good, darling,” the tiefling unblushingly explained.“if you’re interested that is...”

The wizard was too deep in the grasp of his own honest relaxation to camouflage his emotions. Molly’s words immediately drew his full attention, breath sharpening with interest. It was enough of an answer to set Molly in motion, as the tiefling leaned forward, like a tempting vision just within Caleb’s reach.

“Come here...” Mollymauk commanded, no louder than a heated whisper.

Blue eyes fixed on the tiefling’s face, Caleb obeyed. Hardly breathing, the wizard rose up onto his knees, leaning into Molly’s space. Their bodies settled like that, with Molly leaning forward on the couch, and Caleb kneeling before him on the rug. The position was unmistakably possessive and subservient, making Molly’s blood turn molten, as a surge of protective tenderness almost dizzied him. He cupped the wizard’s cheek, then leaned in forehead to forehead when the single point of contact wasn’t enough.

“You deserve a reward.” He purred, the statement rising to his lips more affectionate and loving than he’d meant it to sound. A thing too close to being genuine.

Caleb nodded wordlessly, his entire body swaying pliant and yielding into Molly’s hold, as if it took no more than words to bend him. Half of Molly was watching Caleb’s unraveling restraint with singing triumph. The other half noticed Caleb’s obvious blind faith, and made him frown with concern.

“Darling...”

Caleb hummed.

“Are you still green, here?”

With another small noise of contentment, Caleb turned his face into Molly’s palm again. The wizard’s hand, almost forgotten in Molly’s own taloned grip, squeezed lightly around the tiefling’s fingers. It wasn’t much of an answer, but it was something.

“You’ve just been really quiet, my dear,” Molly murmured gently, “I’m starting to get a little worried.”

“S’fuzzy...” Caleb slurred, voice imperfect and rough with so much disuse, and his hand squeezed more substantially around Molly. “Can’t— _nicht_ —don’t want to talk...”

“Baby, I need you to talk. I can’t read your mind.”

“It’s...hard...” Caleb protested vaguely. “S’hard to...can’t think...”

“And that’s not a bad thing...” Molly prodded with extreme suspicion, Caleb’s flawed explanation raising the tiefling’s defenses.

“ _Ja_... _es ist so gut_...” the wizard mumbled, breaking down into Zemnian, but thankfully the words were close and familiar enough that the tiefling still understood them.

“You can’t think, but it’s good.” Molly continued trying to push.

“ _Ja_.” Caleb breathed, and the relief was clear, an aching release of tension that was audible in his voice.

“I just...” Molly paused to collect the unbidden emotion that wanted to break through his voice. “You’ve got to tell me if it hurt you, baby...I _need_ that...”

“I will.” Caleb promised gently, smiling unfocused and hazy at Molly’s chest, and squeezing around Molly’s hand again. “We’re _gut_...”

“You’re absolutely green.”

“Green,” the wizard agreed dreamily, relaxation thick in his voice.

“And you still want that reward I talked about?” Molly hazarded, cautiously returning to their dance.

Caleb’s sharpened breath was answer enough, but he squeezed suddenly around Molly’s hand, and hissed shakily, “ _ja_.”

“I could touch you, if you want,” Molly allowed his voice to drop to a purr. “Make you feel so good, sweetheart.”

“ _Ja_ —“ Caleb said, voice thinning out to a whimper, “ _bitte_...”

“You want me to?”

“Molly—“ the human weakly pleaded, tugging faintly at Molly’s body, in an effort to bring the tiefling closer.

It was enough to make Mollymauk yield. Slinging his arms more tightly around Caleb’s shoulder’s to bring the human closer. As he kissed Caleb’s cheek repeatedly, and ghosted a hand down to tug against the bath towel still stubbornly tucked around Caleb’s hips. It dropped away, and blessedly the human didn’t protest, clinging timidly around Molly’s neck as the wizard allowed himself to be exposed.

Molly wanted to stop there forever. At last, blessedly, finally, allowed to admire as much as he wished. Caleb’s breakable confidence built up into something more solid, and Molly able to benefit. With so much shame and old wounds hanging around Caleb’s body, still clinging to him like an old illness, being allowed to see Caleb completely bare felt like a miracle.

By the look of things, Caleb was too worked up for lengthy admiration though. The stiffness of his cock was clearly aching, long overworked and patient, until now it was driving him up the wall. Little twitches and jerks kept running through his hips, tiny aborted sex thrusts that had nowhere to go. He wasn’t outright begging with his mouth yet, but his body was ready to do it shamelessly.

But Molly, mischievous, prankish, downright _infernal_ , was in control. And control made the purple devil man playful. So he teased, and denied, and took too long, just to wind the wizard up that little bit tighter. He reached down, to grip lightly around Caleb’s hips, which made the wizard jerk and stutter into his hold. The unmistakably aroused movement of someone silently begging to fuck, or be fucked.

“You’re _such_ a pretty boy...” Molly purred, dark and hungry.

As if the ground had suddenly dropped out from under him, Caleb lurched in Molly’s hold, forehead dropping to hide his face against the tiefling’s neck, as his knees turned weak and he clung to Molly for support to keep him upright. Molly drank it all in. Witnessing Caleb’s sudden and complete drop into aroused, needy submission, with his own sense of surging power.

Then Molly hardened his arms, his hold turning into one of iron, as he forced Caleb’s hips to grind to a trembling halt, trapped with nowhere to go. With the restive energy of the wizard’s hips forced to still, it was only channeled to the rest of his body, seeking a new outlet. Trapped in Molly’s grip, the tension of anticipation was thrumming through Caleb’s body, like a struck bell still vibrating.

“I hope you’re ready, sweet boy?” Molly rumbled, stroking his hands up and down over the wizard’s bony hips, just because he could.

Caleb nodded fervently against Molly’s neck.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart.” Molly stated, still perversely _not_ doing anything at all. “I’m going to finger your beautiful cock, and stroke you until you’re so wet and pretty, just waiting to come. And then I’m gonna stroke you off, until you fall apart for me like the perfect boy you are.” He paused to admire his work, the wizard leaking and unstrung already. Then he added in a last honeyed taunt, “does that sound good?”

Hopelessly keyed up and needy, Caleb whimpered desperately.

Finally, Molly relented, and gave the wizard a taste of what he’d been waiting for. Careful, watching the movements of his own fingers, Molly released one side of Caleb’s pelvis and dragged the edge of one finger up the shaft of Caleb’s cock. Until he reached the head, and let his finger drag over it until it lost contact with no more skin to follow, making the wizard’s cock bob prettily at the release of faint pressure.

Caleb moaned, heartfelt enough for ten fingers instead of just the one, and his hips jerked forward into Molly’s hold. Then Molly returned to explore more deeply. Taking Caleb’s twitching cock between light teasing fingers, he slowly stroked over everything, blatantly taking his time. After waiting so long, to get even one finger on Caleb’s shy elusive body, Molly was quickly loosing himself in the sensations of feeling Caleb’s unveiled skin. He was almost worshiping, something too close to losing his pretense of control, and he knew it. But with so much hidden glory, finally stripped naked for him to touch, the tiefling hardly cared.

The wizard was incredible. Molly couldn’t keep his hands away. He stroked lightly over the head of Caleb’s stiff erection, flushed and swollen, slicking the tiefling’s fingers with pre-come. He admired the drag of Caleb skin, pulled tight and aching over the wizard’s stiffened shaft. And with it all, he drank in the wizard’s subtle noises, every shudder and jerk. As he lightly teased with his fingers, and Caleb mewled helplessly, pulled apart and twitching in Molly’s arms.

“You’re so pretty.” Molly breathed, his voice something choked and reverent now. “So pretty...I can’t get enough of you, darling. You’re just unfairly pretty...”

As he squeezed a fraction tighter around the skin of Caleb’s erection, just below the head, and watched the wizard thrust greedily into the pressure of his fingers.

“So needy,” Molly crowed, and Caleb choked on his own desperation, shivering and obviously trying so hard not to scream with frustration. “Such a sensitive, _needy_ , boy.”

He fully gripped the wizard’s cock, without further warning, and it was amazing. 

Caleb cried out brokenly. Something beautiful, and unrestrained, certainly loud enough to be heard from behind closed doors, bouncing off the walls. The same unrestrained desire made the wizard thrust into Molly’s hand, trying to seek out more friction. Then, as if embarrassed by his own vocality, Caleb hid his face against Molly’s neck, muffling his own voice against the teifling’s skin.

“Listen to that!” Molly teased, immediately seizing on Caleb’s vocal response. “Gods you sound so good, darling, moaning like that.”

While Molly flagrantly pleasured the wizard thoroughly. Stroking over Caleb’s cock in long pulls from root to tip, that made the human try to thrust greedily into his hand every time. Savoring the friction of skin on skin, the molten heat of Caleb’s cock, the easy slide of Caleb’s pre-come leaking freely.

It was all incredible.

“You’re so sensitive.” Molly cooed delightedly, wringing his hand over the head of Caleb’s swollen cock, just to hear the wizard choke on a groan.

And Molly only intended to push him farther.

“Look at you,” the tiefling said with a razor sharp grin, “crying so pretty for me.”

Caleb whined into the skin of Molly’s neck. His chest was heaving, arms trembling around Molly’s shoulders. Little whimpers, and aborted half moans, kept slipping from his lips in spite of himself. Stiffened and prettily slicked with pre-spend he looked half undone already.

“Anyone that heard you would know exactly what we’re doing.” Molly growled, switching tracks, and speaking with fiendish danger in Caleb’s ear.

Caleb moaned, sharp and startled, the sound forced out of him in surprised arousal. He gripped tighter around Molly’s neck, and offered his body up all the more obediently. Wet and waiting on Molly’s words.

“They’d know exactly what I’m doing to you right now...How I’m making you feel so good...If anyone’s listening, they’d know exactly who’s boy you are, when they heard you moan like that for me.”

The wizard’s response was softer, but more heartfelt. An unmistakeable whimper of needy desire, clearly invested and erotized by the idea of being seen, of so unmistakably belonging to Molly. He was leaking freely too, obviously over sensitive, and ready to fall apart quick and dirty. Molly judged that he had Caleb more than halfway to climax already.

Watching greedily, and marking every reaction, Molly wound the wizard up relentlessly. He was being almost cruel, and he knew it. Pulling Caleb so relentlessly towards the peak, without a moment to pause or reconsider.

“Ready to come for me, pet?” Molly breathed, devilish and possessive in Caleb’s ear.

Trembling into the grip of Molly’s hand, the wizard nearly sobbed. Flushed, and so clearly desperate, Molly ached to give in and let him go right then. But the tiefling lingered on the edge, forcing the wizard to wait.

“How do we ask for things nicely?” Molly cooed, fondling Caleb at the same moment in a way that made the wizard choke on his voice, and twitch hard in the tiefling’s hand.

“ _Bitte_ — _bitte_ —Molly—“

“What are you asking for, darling?”

“I want to come.” Caleb sobbed, hands clenching desperately around the hair at the back of Molly’s neck. “Make me—Molly please—“

“Come on, sweetheart,” Molly hissed, half coaxing, half outright demanding, as Molly pleasured Caleb almost obsessively. “Show me how good you feel. Let me have you.”

Caleb was clearly unable to silence himself anymore. Crying sweetly at every skillful touch, and repeated pleasure, he was clinging desperately to Molly’s neck. As it the tiefling were the last anchor on earth.

“Are you gonna let go now?” Molly asked, just because he could.

Caleb’s unrestrained moan, twitching, and spilling pre-seed into Molly hand was already answer enough. But Molly couldn’t resist words.

“Tell me you’re going to come for me.”

“ _Ja_ —“ Caleb choked, past coherent speech.

“You’re mine. Aren’t you?” Molly teased relentlessly, driving the wizard inevitably upwards. “You’re going to come for me. You’re almost there already. Come in my hand, and cry for me. Show me how good you feel.”

“Molly—“ Caleb gasped, like a prayer, like the name of a god, quivering on the very edge, and whimpering with desperation.

Molly gripped the back of Caleb’s neck, and snarled darkly, “I told you: fucking come for me, boy.”

A last decisive stroke from Molly’s hand. A last uncoordinated thrust from Caleb’s hips. A last split second of staggering silence. Before Caleb’s tiny gasp was all the warning Molly had, and the wizard spilled himself into the cage of Molly’s fingers. Going stiff, and brittle with pleasure, as his seed released, Caleb buried his burning face against Molly’s throat.

“Good _boy_ ,” Molly moaned, sensual and feminine, stroking encouraging touches into the twitching head of Caleb’s cock. “That’s my good boy: so pretty for me.”

Filthy and unblushing, Molly flagrantly accepted Caleb’s release. Stroking the wizard relentlessly through the climax, and relishing the molten heat of Caleb’s pleasure in his fingers. And with all the careful waiting, all the hesitation, feeling the burning ropes of Caleb’s seed was everything. Getting to watch the wizard fall, and being the genesis the fall, the reason Caleb twitched in his arms and moaned.

Faithfully submissive until the very end, Caleb pressed his cock into the tiefling’s hand, yeilding himself completely. Unstrung and completely out of control, falling with the blind faith that Molly would catch him, as the wizard spent himself with sensitized moans, and clung to Molly’s neck. And Molly kept coaxing out the climax, chasing that extra half second of Caleb’s twitching euphoria, with incoherent whispers of encoragement falling from his own devil’s tongue.

When the tiefling had coaxed out everything Caleb could give, he finally relented, and suddenly plucked his hand away from the wizard’s softening erection. Still trembling and breathing heavily with pleasure, Caleb collapsed into Molly’s arms. Wrapping the wizard in a close embrace, Molly settled back into the sofa cushions, Caleb leaning over to share the space, with his face tucked into Molly’s neck.

“That was so wonderful, sweetie.” Molly praised softly, petting Caleb’s head against his chest. “You were so perfect.”

“Ngh...”

“I’m so lucky to have you,” Molly breathed, almost staggered by his own good fortune. “You don’t even realize—Gods I’m so lucky...You’re so _sweet..._ my boy..my sweet boy...” 

The silent squeeze of Caleb’s hand, was the only answer.

“How d’you feel?”

“Green...” Caleb hissed, turning his face deeper into Molly’s neck.

The strength of the wizard’s breathing was already unraveling, turning shaky and emotional. Molly marked it with the clarity of someone waiting inevitably for the fall. Caleb had clearly spent so much, squandering every last ounce of his strength in the high...Watching reluctantly as the wizard dropped, Molly knew it was inevitable, and hardy blinked.

Wordlessly Molly pressed a slow, deepening kiss to the rumpled top of Caleb’s head. And Caleb, in the tiefling’s arms, sobbed. Vulnerable as a child, the wizard finally allowed himself to relax there, softening into Molly’s hold.

“Find a word to tell me how you feel,” Molly commanded with infinite gentleness, “green’s too broad.”

It took a long moment of thought, before Caleb could answer. As he gasped shakily against the tiefling’s chest, and struggled hard to parse out a coherent thought, through the relief of over restrained emotion finally forcing itself to be released.

“ _Free_.” Caleb choked, as if it were a miracle, or an illusion about to sparkle and fade into dust.

“Sweetheart...” Molly sighed, tears suddenly pricking at his own eyes, half overpowered by Caleb’s emotion. 

There were no restraints left, as Caleb’s last energy spent itself in tears. Molly didn’t mind. With how zealously Caleb crushed his heart, and choked out his own emotions in a deathlike vice, Molly knew...the release of tears was very, very much needed...

So the tiefling waited. Until the wizard had spent himself. Until there were no tears left, the last ugly depths were cleansed, and Caleb had grown still. Lying quiet in Molly’s arms, the human was at last breathing easy, soft and open in Molly’s hold.

“Well then, darling boy,” Molly broke the silence, absently petting Caleb’s hair. “You’re in no state to be left alone, so I’m going to clean you up...and then I’m going to take you to bed, and we’ll have some cuddles.” He tried to tilt his head, until he could get a glimpse of Caleb’s face, but couldn’t manage the angle. “How does that sound?”

Caleb’s arms tightened around Molly’s ribs, “ _ja_...”

Using his tail, Molly just managed to snag Caleb’s wrinkled bath towel, where it had fallen forgotten around the wizard’s knees. Whoever cleaned the room for them would probably be disgusted, but Molly didn’t care. He had no thoughts for anything beyond the moment, and carefully patted down both their bodies.

It was a little more difficult to urge Caleb into any kind of movement. But with determination, Molly was soon shoving the wizard backward into their luxurious silken bed. Settled against the sheets, Caleb immediately crushed back in to an almost choking embrace around Molly’s body. With a smile and a hum, Molly welcomed it all. More than happy to pet his boy for the time allowed, Molly stroked Caleb’s hair, until the wizard fell asleep.


	22. Lazy Morning Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It's you, it's you, it's all for you. Everything I do. I tell you all the time: Heaven is a place on earth with you, tell me all the things you want to do. I heard that you like the bad girls honey, is that true?_
> 
> [Video Games](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=1wEVjlVlM18), by Lana Del Ray.

Waking up with Caleb’s face against his chest, was a miracle that Molly could still hardly believe he had.

Golden morning sunlight was just starting to creep into the room. The window curtains, which neither of them had retained enough energy to pull shut, allowing in every bit of the sun’s light as soon as it rose. And even though Molly didn’t have an internal clock, like the wizard in his arms, he could still feel in the air how early it was.

That was the heart of it. The wizard in his arms.

Molly had fallen a long, long time ago by now. Maybe even a little, before they started all this. Before he’d even asked Caleb to kiss in the first place. He was young, both literally and figuratively, and still exploring. Like the childhood he didn’t remember having. Giving your heart away seemed so easy he couldn’t stop himself. Friendship was easy, something more even easier. Caleb was pretty, and Molly loved beauty.

It made sense.

But looking at Caleb’s face, it wasn’t a five year old’s crush, (easy to come, easy to go), that left him breathless. It was a fully adult feeling, driven by the child’s lack of experience. And like so many other combinations of adult with child—when he’d tried to thank Gustav, or the first time he masturbated—this was another moment when the childish exploration made inappropriate use of adult behaviors. And Molly knew it.

He knew it, but looking at Caleb’s face, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. The wizard was radiant. Still asleep, face softened and smoothed by unconsciousness. It made him look younger. And admittedly Molly was biased, but Caleb’s sleeping face, framed by golden morning light from behind looked stunning. Like an expensive artwork, depicting one of the gods in rest. A golden halo, caught in his rusty red hair, until it looked like sacred flame.

Who the fuck was Molly kidding? He was in love.

Caleb gently blinked awake, under Molly’s hand on his face. As Molly absently trailed his finger across the freckles on Caleb’s cheeks. Brought this close, Molly could trace every tiny detail of the wizard’s eyes, and the tiefling was unreservedly obsessed.

Fucking, shit, Molly hadn’t realized until this exact moment, with the light just right, and Caleb just honest enough to look at him. Caleb’s eyes were unfairly pretty. A darker jade blue, that looked jewel like against Caleb’s pale skin. And the spider vein pattern of texture, spread across Caleb’s irises, and framing the inky black of his pupils.

“What are you look at... _Herr_ Tealeaf...” Caleb grumbled suspiciously, with no real heat in the play annoyance.

“Just looking at you, Beautiful.” Molly breathed back, unable to make his voice anything other than nakedly genuine.

Jester talked about the Traveler, and her mother, with the same kind of reverence.

“I hope you like what you see...” the wizard murmured honestly, catching Molly’s earnestness and responding to it with his own.

“Of course I do,” Molly said, trying desperately to sound charming, and getting nothing but Sincere from his vocal cords instead. “I like you, sweet boy.”

 _I_ _so_ _much_ _more_ _than_ _like_ _you_...Molly thought, as he leaned forward into a kiss.

It was a slow lazy thing. The kind of kiss that hurt. So sweet he almost couldn’t take it, almost couldn’t endure. Every fibre in him wanting to cry out, to scream with the torture. With the words stifled until they couldn’t come, Molly’s lips were saying it instead, pressing it into Caleb’s mouth with a gentle passion that had no need for sexual heat.

It was so good, Molly nearly sobbed.

“How are you this morning, pet?” Molly inquired, as soon as they had room to breathe. “No regrets, about last night?”

Mutely Caleb shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, before he paused to consider. Molly waited, and the wizard finally whispered. “It’s still good...still glad I did it...”

“You seemed a bit overwhelmed, at the end there.”

“ _Ja._..I just...” Caleb chewed on his lips, as he considered his words. “I was...afraid of doing that...for so long. I kept avoiding it, and worrying about it...”

“Felt like getting it off your chest,” Molly supplied.

“ _Ja_.”

“That’s good.”

With a hum, Caleb settled more comfortably into Molly’s side. Molly smiled at no one, and stroked his fingers through the wizard’s hair.

“You know,” Molly said, interrupting the easy morning silence, after several minutes. “We never did get frisky in this bed...”

“I suppose we didn’t.”

“How would you feel about it now?”

“Well,” Caleb murmured reverently, “what were you thinking of doing.”

“ _I_ _want_ _to_ _make_ _love_ _to_ _you_ ,” was the thing Molly didn’t say.

Instead he stretched languidly, and purred, “lazy morning sex sounds just perfect right now, darling.”

“Where were you...wanting to touch...” The wizard inquired cautiously.

Giving into Caleb’s unspoken desire for predictability, would spoil the surprise significantly. But sacrificing mystery, for the sake of Caleb’s comfort, was something Molly was happy to do. So he wiggled in, until he could whisper in Caleb’s ear, even though there was no one to hear but themselves.

“Well, darling, I was thinking of teaching you how good getting fingered can feel.” Molly confided in a heated whisper. “But if you’re really interested, I was thinking of giving you my cock after that.” He dragged back, to hover over Caleb’s face, and murmur, “how does that sound?”

The wizard’s eyes were darker, and his voice was breathy as he answered, “I would definitely be interested in doing that. _Ja_.”

“Wonderful.” Molly growled harmlessly.

It burned to disengage himself, and sit up. Part of him still so attached to Caleb, that it felt like peeling half of his own body off, when he moved away from the wizard. But he managed to disguise it, with a careless stretch, as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Well, darling, if you’ll wait right there, I have some preparations I need to make.” The tiefling purred lightly.

He slid off one side of the bed, and went hunting. For seventeen gold, and free prostitution included with the room, Molly was dead certain there had to be some more...exotic luxuries...lying around somewhere. It was just a question of finding it.

In the end, he found what he wanted, in an inconspicuous little jar on one of the shelves in the bathing chamber. It wasn’t labeled, but as he tipped the jar the viscous consistency was familiar. Just to be sure, Molly opened the jar, and dipped his fingers in. Which informed him that for seventeen gold, you not only got a luxury room, you got luxury lube.

Molly was definitely going to ‘permanently borrow’, whatever the two of them didn’t use up this morning.

“We appear to be in luck, dearest.” The tiefling declared lightly, sliding back into the bed, after a few more minutes of distant preparation. He proudly displayed the jar against the morning light, tail whipping mischievously. “They certainly know how to take care of a customer’s needs in this place. Almost makes me want to stay, and get pampered for the rest of my life.”

“That would not be very good...considering we both have a life to live...”

“Yes, but where’s the fun in risking our lives, when we could be enjoying ourselves much more pleasantly here.” Molly teased suggestively, because teasing was fun, and made it easy to ignore how earnest his words actually were.

“I don’t know what you’re planning to do, but I intend to risk my life again regardless, when you’re finished.” Caleb said with a dry seriousness, that meant he was telling a joke.

“Well first of all, I’m going to kiss you thoroughly, darling.” Molly proclaimed shamelessly.

And he just as shamelessly made good on his word. Settling over Caleb’s body, as if to blanket him, Molly got his lips on Caleb’s. Still the same sweet fire it was before. Caleb giving in with uncharacteristically easy confidence, as his arms wound around Molly’s neck, and his chapped lips were blessedly yielding before Molly’s forked tongue.

“That’s better,” the tiefling hummed absently. “I missed you, sweetie.”

“You were out of bed for less than five minutes...” Caleb tried to slur, against Molly’s insistent mouth.

“Mmm...five minutes too many...”

“You’re not—“ Caleb faltered, when Molly’s talons rasped through the wizard’s hair, “going to scratch me, _ja_?”

“Already thought of it.” Molly absently stated, waving one hand awkwardly where Caleb could (probably) see it, without bothering to break away.

Mollymauk Tealeaf was an extremely lecherous individual. He’d made those mistakes long ago. And he was far from committing them again. Taking five extra minutes to groom himself so he wasn’t a danger to anyone brave enough to submit to penetration, was a ritual he’d discovered was necessary, and attended to as a matter of course.

“Alright. I was a little worried...”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I don’t bite,” Molly teased, and Caleb gave a skeptical hum.

Molly was both flexible and virile, so it was fairly easy to maneuver how he wanted, made all the more simple because Caleb was so unabashedly willing to be manhandled. So the tiefling wiggled, until he was kneeling on the bed, with Caleb spread to straddle around Molly’s hips. Settling in that position made Caleb flush, as if just now becoming aware of what they were about to do, but the embarrassed knowledge didn’t appear to be stopping him.

“Feeling comfortable?” Molly checked, because that was important, and he was quick to pick up on the wizard’s embarrassment.

“Little nervous...” the wizard confided, huffing out a laugh when Molly darted upward to kiss his forehead. “I’m...not sure what to expect...”

“Trust me love,” Molly purred, with naked sincerity. “This feels fucking _amazing_.”

Caleb only nodded mutely in answer. But the honesty of his eyes locking with Molly was enough to content the tiefling, and he didn’t ask for any more. Molly stretched and settled himself, as he twisted open the jar, and dipped his fingers in. Then he surveyed Caleb’s body carefully, allowing a moment of combined anticipation and satisfaction to build.

“Can I start with your dick?”

“Might be a good idea, _ja_.”

Leaning forward, Molly angled in for another kiss at the same time. As he settled his hand around Caleb’s half formed erection, and allowed the slickness on his fingers to spread around. Caleb’s breath hitched, a half formed cry swallowed down Molly’s throat. Just as responsive as ever, Caleb quickly hardened fully under Molly’s skillful grip, growing louder at the same time.

Always so given to playing, Molly allowed himself to take an unnecessarily long time. Just building the wizard up, by watching him fall apart, scattering the pieces of his composure. Caleb was blindly riding the high before Molly moved on. The wizard twitching instinctively into Molly’s grip, breath raking harsh through his lungs.

Molly left him staggering, right before the finish.

Caleb unreservedly whined in frustration, when Molly pulled his hand away, leaving the wizard dangling helplessly. The tiefling only smiled, with roguish mischief behind his eyes, and switched targets.

Even with all the build up, Caleb still jumped when Molly’s fingers pressed in to massage lower down. Obviously still keyed up, and unsure what sensations to expect, the slight touch startled him and Molly pulled off a little. Humming tunelessly behind his teeth, Molly pressed a careful kiss to the center of Caleb’s chest, using the moment of adjustment as an opportunity to give himself more oil to work with.

“Green?” The tiefling murmured gently against Caleb’s skin.

“ _Ja_...”

Molly kept little comforting kisses and half formed whispers pressed into Caleb’s chest, reaching down with equally light fingers to touch Caleb again. He slowly circled his fingers around the muscle, waiting with unspoken patience for any sign of yielding. Caleb unstrung a moment later, visibly forcing himself to uncoil and breathe, which Molly interpreted as the sign to keep going more firmly. The brush turned into a deliberate massage of fingertips, that made Caleb shiver and tense, before he forced himself to relax again.

That was the ritual for a long interval of silence and building anticipation. A push and pull, of Molly incrementally gaining momentum, and Caleb forcing himself to give in. Until Molly had the wizard yielding slowly, around the pressure of one finger. And then another, carefully stretching.

With the slow build, Caleb’s breathing was also building. A small, but significant change, as his heavy gasps changed from something nervous to something more sensitized. With the careful exploration of his fingers, Molly could feel it too. The tiny ripples of muscle, as his fingers awakened Caleb’s flesh, and the heat softened to something more pliant.

“What d’ya think?” Molly inquired with breathless reverence, almost strangely fixated on Caleb’s words, interested in the wizard’s verdict.

“S’good...” Caleb hissed, shivering with the words. “I can see why this is...pursued for pleasure...”

That sentence was far too coherent in Molly’s opinion.

“Maybe you shouldn’t say that,” Molly said, voice turning velvet and dangerous. “I haven’t even showed you the best part yet.

He found what he was searching for a moment later. As he fingered Caleb open, and found the small bump deeper in, where he knew it would be so good to touch. With the predator’s grin in his mouth, and his promise hanging on the air, he angled up his fingers to brush past it, and then returned to press down fully.

It was everything Molly could have been hoping for.

Caleb was already shaking apart with the passing brush of Molly’s skin. Hips jerking up, as if to get away from the sensation and then back into it at the same time, while his breath vanished like a puff of smoke.

Then Molly crooked his fingers, and Caleb moaned desperately. As he dropped his head back to expose his throat, and his body seized, greedily thrusting down into Molly’s fingers for more. While the fattened shaft of his cock throbbed, and prettily begged.

“ _That’s_ the best part.” Molly growled, with smoke, and seduction, and sexual pleasure all tangled up in his voice.

Molly pressed his fingers up to pleasure Caleb again; and it made heat and need coil tightly at the base of his own groin, to see how unstable Caleb already was. Already falling apart with sensation, the desperate grind of his hips unrestrained in chasing pleasure. With everything else Caleb’s cries falling sweetly on Molly’s ears, as he twitched and shivered, and exposed his throat with unmistakable submission. The wizards cock dribbling pre-come under the coaxing of Molly’s fingers, obviously aching for release.

Caleb was fucking breathtaking.

Unapologetically worshiping, Molly pleasured Caleb’s body with his fingers. Until Caleb’s moans had turned into thready whimpers, and his cock twitched with a last desperate gush of pre-come across his stomach. And then Molly released the driving pressure of his fingers in Caleb’s flesh, and his other hand clenched possessively painful around the base of Caleb’s cock, driving the climax out of reach.

“ _Nein_! Molly _bitte_.” Caleb protested desperately, scrabbling feeble and useless against Molly’s grip, as if removing it could bring the lost orgasm back.

“Not yet,” Molly hissed possessively, already returning to Caleb’s pleasure spot, “not until I give you permission.”

The wizard groaned discontentedly.

Pleased with Caleb’s annoyance, Mollymauk grinned. He was a tease, and he knew that really, if Caleb could have found enough coherence to express himself, the wizard wouldn’t have wanted Molly to be anything else.

“I’m going to make you wait.” Molly taunted, letting his free hand creep back to find Caleb’s neglected cock. “Until you think you can’t anymore, and then I’ll just make you wait even more.”

With Molly stroking both his cock, and the sensation of his prostate, Caleb clearly couldn’t hold his composure long. He was too quickly falling apart already. Breath turning harsh, as his body trembled weakly, and his own pleasure nearly choked him. He was a mess, and Molly couldn’t get enough of it. So weak to Molly’s finger’s driving him upward.

Molly stroked, carefully, relentlessly. Up until Caleb was shaking. Then Molly would slow, almost stop. Giving Caleb a stroke, and then waiting, another long pull, and then waiting some more. The wizard was limp with it, almost sobbing, and crying prettily every time Molly gave him another stroke.

It was easy. So fucking easy, to bring him up to the edge again, and again, and again. Molly was playing dirty, and he knew it, using everything in his power. The stroke of his hand on Caleb’s cock, the press of his fingers at Caleb’s prostate, the wet dance of his mouth leaving kisses across Caleb’s skin. Until Caleb was shaking apart, limp and desperate, crying emptily after the sixth climax Molly pulled out of reach.

“You’ve never had me suck your cock have you?” Molly reflected with sweetly bladed danger.

“ _Molly_ —“ Caleb whimpered, and the tiefling wasn’t sure if the wizard was pleading for mercy, or begging for more.

“I assure you I’m very good at it,” Molly purred, and his tone was undeniably dangerous now. Caleb was gasping speechlessly, no words left with Molly fingering the wizard so relentlessly. “I never returned the favor for last night either...”

Molly’s tongue lapped messily, around the head of Caleb’s cock. The salt, and musk, and sweat, all exactly what made Molly’s mouth water.

“You fucking bastard—“ Caleb stammered, but the hitching weakness of sex and arousal made it a flawed retort.

Molly grinned evilly, “very observant of you, darling.”

And he settled over Caleb’s cock without further warning.

It was easy, arousing, to sink all the way down without adjusting. Molly loved men, loved sex, and loved sex with men. So it was with the benefit of much practice, that he could pull Caleb into his throat without a moment’s hesitation. Letting Caleb slide across his tongue, until the wizard hit Molly’s soft palate, and Molly angled down farther with a moan of his own worked up sensation.

Fuck.

Every time, it hit Molly like a fresh bolt of lightening, to realize all over again just how much he loved sucking dick. With Caleb’s cock leaking down his throat, the wizard’s musk seared across Molly’s brain, Molly couldn’t deny just how much he was getting off. And with the painfully aching erection between his own legs, Molly was in no mood to argue with anyone about just how much of a slut he was. He fucking loved getting used.

Caleb cry of pleasure was a thready broken thing, clutching a desperate hand into Molly hair, and shakily thrusting hard into Molly’s mouth. The tiefling had to pull off almost immediately, sharp and disappointing, in order to curb Caleb’s pleasure and stifle the wizard before he could finish. And with Caleb’s aching deprivation ringing in his ears, Molly grinned, and sucked the wizard down again.

The cycle was short and brutal. Caleb forced through the rigors of too much pleasure, until he was gasping. When Molly would viciously restrain him, until the wizard was pushed through all the overwhelming sensation again. The stimulation of his prostate had Caleb leaking constantly, a thread of salt and sex that Molly chased and savored with every stimulation of his mouth and tongue.

“Mollymauk please—“ Caleb sobbed, the desperation in his voice beginning to sound truly tortured. “ _Bitte_ , _bitte_ , _bitte_ —“

“Shhhh,” Molly soothed, dragging himself upwards to savagely kiss Caleb’s pleas away. “I know. I know baby, I got you.”

The wizard keened miserably, as Molly’s fingers pulled away to leave him empty. Clinging around the tieflings shoulders, Caleb was so needy, Molly almost couldn’t keep his composure as he messily slicked his own cock up. And then finally Molly was lining himself up, and Caleb’s legs were already spidering around to straddle him, and attempt to pull the tiefling closer.

Caleb sighed in relief as Molly pressed himself into the wizards body, and Molly couldn’t help but groan along with him. As Caleb’s flesh, slick, and tight, and so molten perfect, accepted Molly’s cock. It made Molly loose his balance, realizing with a broken hiss just how much he’d been denying himself in denying Caleb.

Trying to gather up the scattered remnants of his control, Molly dragged himself into moving. Each breath coming with an effort, as he shakily pulled away enough to thrust in. He huffed out a breath of choked up pleasure, already beginning to move without thinking. As flesh slid against flesh, and the wet sound of Caleb’s body moving against his own, made him moan through the pleasure haze.

The wizard groaned, with a sharp discontent in it, and then desperately gasped out. “Yellow.”

Fuck. Molly was struggling to think through the cloud of sensation, and he couldn’t form the words he needed. “What—“ he began, but Caleb cut him off.

“Can’t—I can’t—“ Caleb squirmed, beginning to sound truly upset. “I can’t like this—”

With surprising strength, Caleb surged up from his resting position on the pillows. In a moment he had shoved Molly backwards, sending him breathless into the sheets. Where blessedly, the wizard settled back over him, until they were joined, and Caleb was straddling Molly’s hips.

“Are we good?” Molly tried to enquire through the needy sensation of Caleb’s inner muscles rippling around Molly’s cock.

“ _Ja_ , I just,” Caleb rolled his hips downwards into Molly, voice turning thready with the heated fission of pleasure. “Need to be on top. Can’t be under you, like that.”

“Good to know,” Molly murmured, taking a moment for fondness, even with the heat.

He reached up to stroke one hand over Caleb’s stomach where he could reach, feeling the shudder of Caleb’s abdominal muscles under the tiefling’s hand.

“Sorry—“ Caleb stammered, hips circling another aborted grind into Molly’s cock. Probably more to sate the wizard’s own need, than stimulate Molly. “I know it’s not as...in control...for you this way.”

“Sweetheart,” Molly purred smugly, “if you think I can’t ruin you perfectly well from here...you obviously don’t know me very well...”

The tiefling thrust upward into Caleb’s circling movement, just to prove the point, and Caleb cried out sharply. Clenching greedily around Molly’s cock, breathing hard, and clinging weakly for purchase on Molly’s chest.

Settling himself more leisurely back into the bedsheets, Molly made a show of stretching himself with lazy relaxation. “Well come on, sweetie, ” he teasingly prompted. He settled his hands around Caleb’s hips, giving the wizard a tiny tug to encourage movement, as the tiefling purred mischievously, “show me how good you can ride me...”

Caleb flushed, clearly embarrassed and aroused by what Molly wanted. But the blush was immediately succeeded by a hot blooded determination that made Molly feel vulnerable, as the wizard’s eyes locked on Molly’s face, and there was a clear intention behind them. It was a look Molly didn’t know how to name.

With careful dedication, Caleb dragged himself into movement. Until Molly was afraid the wizard was going to pull off entirely. And then with the same care Caleb settled, taking Molly’s cock by careful inches, as the wizard hissed appreciatively. Molly growled through his teeth, the grace of Caleb’s movements, and the carefully fluttering heat of his flesh, both making Molly ache.

The cheeky boy was actually showing off.

It was unmistakable. Caleb so flagrantly taking his time, making sure that he looked pretty. He was putting on his own little seductive show, making an act out of riding Molly with obedient selfishness, exactly as Molly had told him to.

But Molly was a brat, and he couldn’t resist throwing off Caleb’s carefully balanced equilibrium. The tiefling was the sort of bedmate that could never resist one upping his partner, until someone would be forced to snap. And Caleb, with his carefully slow pace to avoid too much sensation, looked very much like breaking first.

Molly reached up to lightly circle his fingers around the head of Caleb’s cock, letting his hips angle into gentle movement at the same time. He was rewarded by a startled whimper from Caleb, as the wizard’s controlled movements faltered, and Molly snickered like the devil himself. The wizard was pleasingly sensitive, the gentle strokes and teasing tugs on his swollen and long denied cock, already making him unsuccessfully attempt to smother himself from crying out.

In a very few strokes Molly had found the perfect rhythm. The synchronization that let his cock brush up against Caleb’s pleasure spot, while his fingers worked over the head of Caleb’s erection. And in only two more, Caleb was loosing his control completely.

The wizard faltered over Molly’s cock, grinding to a halt as he gasped, struggling to contain overstimulated whimpers. His cock was leaking desperately, stiff and twitching in Molly’s hand. It was only too obvious that Caleb couldn’t move, or he’d probably come, and was trembling with frozen desperation to contain himself.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Molly relentlessly pushed, “you haven’t nearly fucked yourself enough yet.”

The wizard’s answer was an overwhelmed whine, but he obediently dragged himself into movement again. Forcing himself back into the voluntary hell of too much pleasure, that he couldn’t give into. As Molly’s cock teased at the wizard’s prostate, Molly’s hand hopelessly worked up his cock, and Caleb’s own obedience was forced to submit to it all.

Nearly over powered, it was quickly drawing to a point where Caleb was keeping control by a thread. Every few seconds he was forced to still, breathing hard and struggling to continue. Molly watched it all, and admired. As Caleb would drag himself over Molly’s cock and then still, or Molly’s fingers would massage the head of the wizard’s cock and receive dribbling pre-spend in answer while the wizard shuddered.

Then Caleb stilled, panting, one hand splayed on Molly’s chest.

And the tiefling suddenly wasn’t content with giving the wizard respite anymore. Molly thrust up his hips, relentlessly stimulating the wizard anyway, the stroke of his hand continuing a counter balance. Caleb choked on his breath, sobbing in protest, as he paused for relief and Molly kept pushing him instead.

In a few moment’s Caleb was unabashedly begging, cock swollen angrily and slicked with need, body clenching desperately around Molly’s erection.

“ _Molly_ — _bitte_ —I can’t—I going to come—“ he sobbed, scrabbling uselessly for some kind of purchase and finding none. “Tell me I can— _bitte_ , I’m trying to be _gut_ —“

“Of course you can—“ Molly hastily affirmed. “Of course, you’ve been so good.”

He could see that Caleb was truly going to shatter, no matter how hard the poor boy might try to stop himself, and Molly wasn’t in the mood to restrain him any more. 

The climax rocked Caleb’s body a moment later, and it was truly the most breathtaking thing Molly had ever seen.

After such an interval of denial, the wizard sobbed desperately, as his cock suddenly released full and burning across Molly’s stomach. Spilling himself completely after waiting so long, and continuing to spend himself for a long time, as he thrust into Molly’s hand like it was a lifeline. Around Molly, the wizard’s flesh convulsed, shaking with gratitude at finally being granted release. The sound of Caleb’s pleasure, pure and unrestrained, set Molly’s blood on fire, echoing across the walls.

Molly watched it all, with unabashed wonderment. As he let Caleb ride the high, watching the wizard’s face with greedy possesion. It was messy, and ugly, and human. A high of raw, animal pleasure, that made Molly’s gut clench with eroticism. As Molly stroked the wizard through it, still searching out all the tender places that made Caleb fly just a moment longer. 

The wizard’s motion stilled, after spending himself until his cock must be burningly empty. Still clinging to Molly’s chest, and clenching rhythmically through the aftershocks. As the wizard struggled to collect his breath, and his composure, his spend scattered unconciously across Molly’s lavender skin. 

Molly, for one, quite liked the contrast.

“Such a pretty, _pretty_  boy...” Molly murmured with smug admiration, still half seriously toying with the wizard’s cock just to see the man squirm with too much sensation.

“Molly—”

“Shush...get your breath back, darling...”

Caleb slumped forward against Molly’s chest, at the moment heedless of his own spend between them, trying to get his breath back after Molly had taken him so thoroughly apart.

“See?” The tiefling purred, as self satisfied as a cat in sunlight. “I told you it feels amazing.” 


	23. Afterparty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Think I just remembered something. I think I left the faucet running. Now my words are filling up the tub. Darling, you're just soaking in it, but I know you'll get out the minute you notice all your fingers pruning up._
> 
> _I'm tired of being careful, gentle, trying to keep the water warm. Let me under your skin. Uh-oh, there it goes, I said too much, it overflowed. Why do I always spill?_
> 
> [Soap](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ElVp4bewncs), by Melanie Martinez.

“Maybe come back to me, darling,” Molly coaxed without any real hurry or concern, “I’ve got to get you cleaned up.”

“But we’re not done...” Caleb mumbled, in fuzzy protest.

“I wouldn’t put you through this more than once,” Molly said firmly. “That seems a little extreme. You might hit the ground hard, with that kind of workout...” he brushed the hair away from Caleb’s forehead, and affectionately kissed it, adding, “I have to be careful with you...”

“ _Nein_...” the wizard contradicted, “I was talking about you.” With clumsy significance, he ground his leg against Molly’s groin, making the tiefling hiss with the stimulation to his still stiffened cock. “You didn’t finish.”

“It’ll wait till later. You come first.” Molly asserted, voice thready with leftover arousal, lazily pressing his cock into Caleb’s leg without really intending to gain a climax from the movements. “I’ll have no trouble taking care of myself...”

“That’s not good enough.” Caleb stated, and there was a hint of steel in his voice, that caught Mollymauk by surprise. “We both have to finish—”

“Sweetie, if you think I can’t get off on my own, when I have time to jerk off later, you really—”

“Shut up.” Caleb snapped, suddenly clamping his hand over Molly’s mouth to physically muzzle him, and meeting the tiefling’s eyes with an icy look that made his stomach drop out.

Holy shit.

“You just interrupted me, while I was talking. That’s not very polite.” The wizard growled.

Molly gave a muffled hum of agreement, behind Caleb’s hand.

“Are you going to do it again, if I let you go?”

As innocent as a saint, Molly shook his head, humming with contradiction.

“Good.” Caleb declared, clipped and businesslike. “Then we’ll try this again.”

_Holy shit._

Once freed, Molly gasped like he’d just run a ten mile race. He was definitely stiffer than two minutes ago, and also definitely more interested in bringing himself to completion. If this was going where Molly thought it was, he couldn’t deny to anyone, including himself, that he was very ready to go along with it.

“Not interrupting you, dearest—“ Molly gasped, as soon as he had breath enough, “but it looks like you’re thinking of taking the reigns here. Is that what you’re doing?”

“ _Ja_...” Caleb asserted almost viciously, adding in a gentled tone that mirrored his usual anxious nature, “if you’re interested.”

“Oh I’m definitely interested.” Molly breathed with naked sincerity. “Bitch-Who-Loves-To-Bottom is my middle name.”

“I don’t want to hurt you...”

Mollymauk Tealeaf, who was extremely interested in pain, couldn’t help but vent a petty whine of contradiction, “please do.”

“You _like_ to be hurt?” Caleb said, with an almost intimidated expression.

“Fuck yes,” Molly vigorously assented, “slap me, scratch me, whip me. Pretty much anything painful I’m into.”

“I’ll...I can try...” Caleb cut himself off, looking for a moment genuinely unsure of himself. “I’m not sure how much I can do that...”

“Afraid of injuring me?” Molly prodded, “or afraid of injuring yourself.”

“Myself, _ja_...” the wizard said, “some of that is...is hard for me...”

“You don’t have to do anything, if you’re uncomfortable with it,” the tiefling said. “We can just fuck for now.”

“Are you—“ Caleb stammered, obviously refocusing himself on their current discussion, instead of the brief concern they’d pushed away. “Do you...like to be good, or bad...”

For a moment Molly had to search his brain, to figure out what Caleb meant. And then it connected in his head. As he remembered how explicitly Caleb like to be praised, and treated gently. The few, and early, times that Molly had tried anything less kind, the wizard had always reacted painfully. Humiliated and at the same time validated by anything Molly said that could be perceived as agreement with the wizard’s own damaging self talk.

In his own roundabout way, the wizard was ascertaining if Molly also wanted the same kind of praise.

“I’m definitely bad.” Molly declared with a grin. “I don’t wanna feel good enough.”

“So I can...insult you?”

“Talk like I’m dirt,” Molly snarled with a fanged kind of anticipation.

“I can call you anything I want...”

“Anything along the lines of being a needy bitch are favorites, but yes.” Molly assented.

Caleb fell silent, watching Molly’s face with a kind of detached examination that put Molly’s tail in knots. Then the wizard bent down, and growled in Molly’s ear. “Whore...”

“That’s the idea,” Molly barely managed to coherently answer, voice thready with lust.

Caleb’s fingers suddenly rooted in the back of Molly’s hair, tugging the tiefling’s head until his neck was exposed. And the pressure, though not painful as Caleb had set the boundary there, was still a conscious weight. That was more like it.

“You really are a slut.” Caleb growled, in a tone that was almost wonder, facial hair tickling Molly’s cheek as the wizard continued. “That’s what I’m going to call you: my sinful, spoiled, filthy little slut.”

A heartfelt moan pushed past Molly’s lips, hips rolling, as his cock jerked. Some sensation around that painfully aching member, would have been welcome at the present moment. The grating harshness in Caleb’s voice was everything, laying the tiefling bare in the best kind of exposure, humiliated and turned on all at once.

“C-Caleb,” Molly shakily managed to stammer, “can I call you Sir?”

“Why?”

“Gets me off,” Molly explained impatiently. 

“Yes, you can call me Sir.” Caleb said, and it sounded like a command instead of a favor given at Molly’s request. “You are allowed to call me Sir, or Mr. Caleb, and nothing else. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” Molly breathed. Overwhelmed and painfully turned on to find how quickly Caleb mastered his role in this little game.

“That sounds very nice.” Caleb rumbled dangerously. “You sound good when you’re respectful.”

“Yes sir—“ Molly whined.

“You know right where you belong, don’t you,” Caleb mused watching Molly’s face for every subtle change and nuance, “underneath me. Just like you should be.”

Molly’s voice was warm with a trapped moan, as he stammered “Mr. Caleb—sir—“

“What is it?”

“Can you—are you going to touch me?”

“Is that what you want?” Caleb prodded, like a coiled trap waiting to be sprung.

But trap or not, Molly couldn’t resist walking right into the middle of it.

“Please,” Molly immediately gave in and begged, because he was desperate, and he was good at it. He spread his legs wide with a mischievous smirk, letting his hips undulate. “Fuck me, sir, make me your bitch. I’ll be so good for you. Look how ready I am. I’m such a dirty girl.”

“What a perverted speech to make,” the wizard growled darkly, untouched by Molly’s appearance, unless it were the darkened arousal in the wizard’s eyes. “Maybe I should punish you for that.”

“Teach me to be good, Mr. Caleb.” The tiefling tipped his knees to the side, painting an obscene picture. As he grinned through his teeth, and let his taloned hands run down the inside of his thighs, and back again. Caleb’s eyes followed the movement, and Molly took care to make a show of himself.

“You need it?” Caleb said, as if there could be any doubt in the matter.

“So bad,” Molly confirmed shamelessly, watching his own cock twitch with lustful interest. “Look how needy I am, sir...”

“Dealing with you really is a pain,” the wizard growled, one hand planting solid and restraining on Molly’s stomach, forcing the tiefling’s hips to still. “I’m going to need every bit of my control with you, yes? You’re just that naughty.”

Bladed pleas and seductive taunts were already rising to Mollymauk’s too saucy tongue, but Caleb’s hand silenced him. The wizard unceremoniously wrapping a hand around Molly’s erection, and teasing in one long pull from base to head. That made the tiefling loose his voice, overwhelmed and outmatched, with a choked gasp of pleasure.

“Much better.” Caleb declared, smug, and so in control it made Molly’s skin turn inside out. “You’re pretty when you don’t talk.”

A breathlessly eroticized moan rose to Molly’s lips. Body rolling gracefully up into Caleb’s hand, as the wizard stroked Molly’s cock. This was a ride that Molly had never imagined taking, but it was a plunge pulling him down fast and brutal, ready to fling himself headfirst from the cliff of arousal into the grasp of Caleb’s complete control.

But Molly was a brat.

Mollymauk Tealeaf was a brat, and a performer, and he couldn’t give up without a fight. Caleb’s comment about Molly’s silence had sounded like a challenge. And the tiefling was always one to face a challenge. He moaned theatrically on the next stroke laid across his cock, working a hand into his own hair just for the look of the thing, and thrusting sharply into Caleb’s hand.

“Fuck, sir, that feels so _good_ ,” he whined, unblushingly needy. “You’re so good Mr. Caleb—“ and he let himself sob with hedonistic sensation to prove his point. “Keep touching me, and I’ll come for you. I’ll scream so good. I wanna come. Make me give you everything sir, make me soil myself. I’ll get so dirty for you—“

“You really don’t know how to hold your tongue do you?” Caleb asked.

His hand gripped agonizingly tight around Molly’s cock, sending a stab of torture through the tiefling’s groin up into his stomach, and Molly was absolutely dying. Mollymauk screamed—he couldn’t give two fucks about being overheard—loud and enthusiastic in his keen enjoyment of the pain. As his cock did it’s best to release enough slick pre-seed, to paint him desperate and completely debauched. Until he collapsed boneless against the bed, coming down from the high with a litany of “ _please_ ,” and “ _more_.”

“The way I see it,” Caleb ground out, harsh and merciless, “you have two choices.”

The wizard’s hand stilled, making Molly cry emptily to have his sensation back. Before Caleb planted his free hand over Molly’s sternum, with a look of icy control that made the tiefling ache from the pit of his groin to roll over expose his belly. The wizard’s scarred hand was just inches from the Molly’s throat. The stiffness of Molly’s cock, and his spine, were both feeling the dominance.

“Either you keep pitching a fit with that stubborn tongue of yours, and make me leave you begging with a full cock, until I decide you’ve learned your lesson.” Caleb threatened, with a straight-faced danger that made Molly whole heartedly believe the wizard’s words.

Caleb’s hand abandoned the tiefling’s cock, making him vent a petty whine, and darted up to linger over the tiefling’s lips. Molly grinned, and surged forward to suck Caleb’s fingers into his mouth, forked tongue fondling over them to taste his own pre-spend. He couldn’t tell if the wizard had meant him to do it, but they both got distracted with it, as Caleb’s control slipped for half a second, and Molly moaned around Caleb’s fingers.

Then Caleb jerkily recovered himself, and yanked his fingers away slick with Molly’s spit, to grip the tiefling’s chin and hold him down.

“Or you hold your tongue,” the wizard ground out, “and spread your legs for me like a good boy, while I play with your slutty cock as much as I want. And maybe, if you’re very good, I let you spill yourself when I’m done. Understand?”

Whimpering with wordless need, leaking messy and honest against his stomach, and more aroused than he’d ever been in his life, Molly spread his legs. Finally hitting the wall that wouldn’t let him fight anymore. As he exposed his cock fully—or more honestly than he’d been a moment ago—for Caleb’s inspection, and the tiefling burningly enjoyed every moment of it.

“There we go,” Caleb said, with distant approval, that made Molly feel more humiliated not less. (And Molly fucking loved it). “Now we know who’s in charge don’t we?”

Caleb’s hand closed, blessedly, achingly, around Molly’s cock. Lazily jerking the tiefling off, with long strokes that only drove him hopelessly upwards, without reaching the edge. Molly mindlessly gave into it. Words stripped away, submission all that was left.

“Look how easy you are,” Caleb purred, taunting Molly when the tiefling had no way to answer back. “You hardly put up a fight.”

The wizard leaned in, wrenching his hand painfully around Molly’s balls in underscore of his next words, “that’s how desperate you are. So horny for a fuck, you’ll open your legs for anyone, if they’ll give you a passing glance.”

The stroke of Caleb’s hand had the tiefling aching to the beat of his own heart, leaking, and so desperate to come it almost hurt. But it was the wizard’s words, his perfect, punishing, humiliating _words_ that really had Molly’s tail in knots.

“It’s all you think about. So needy, you’ll grind your dirty cock on anything that feels good.” Caleb’s words scalded, in time with the stroke of his hand, and Molly listened with wide eyed attention. As Caleb leaned forward, and breathed in his ear.

“Slut.”

Molly answered the statement with a heartfelt moan. Overstimulated with pain, and pleasure, and the guilty throb of his own perversion.

“I could do this to you in public,” the wizard asserted.

A whine broke from Molly’s lips, body jerking eagerly. So achingly ready to come, mind already burning with the need, while his body tried to catch up. Out of sync, and frustrated, as his cock couldn’t respond fast enough to the demands of his brain.

“You’re so shameless, you’d let me fuck you anywhere,” Caleb continued, immediately latching onto Molly’s titillated whine. “I’d let everybody see what a whore you are. My needy little pervert, ready to show your cock anywhere.”

The picture had Molly groaning, lust and promiscuous interest making the fantasy inviting. As he imagined falling apart where his friends could see. Spreading his legs, exactly like he was at the moment, and feeling Caleb massage heated and possessive over his cock. Until he’d obediently give himself up, regardless of time or place, ready to ejaculate where anyone could watch, just because Caleb asked.

“After that I’d have my way, and do whatever I want. Maybe push you on your knees, and stuff my cock down your throat until you can’t make a sound, and your throat would get me off like a cunt.”

Molly whimpered.

He was definitely going to come. That was a complete certainty, if Caleb kept talking the way he was. If the wizard’s honeyed word’s stroked the tiefling’s ear, while working the teifling’s cock with his hand, Molly was going to break. He was hanging on the edge already, the musk and heat of sex snapping behind his teeth.

“Or maybe I wouldn’t even touch you,” Caleb growled, his voice hanging molten in Molly’s ear, as the wizard’s hand swirled perfect and maddening over the swollen head of Molly’s cock, teasing at the slit. “You’d have to straddle my lap, and hump me yourself. I wouldn’t even let you take our clothes off, just make you grind your cock on me until you’re raw and it hurts to move, but you can’t stop until you come.”

“Sir—“ Molly begged, clinging around Caleb’s shoulders, as his cock twitched into the wizard’s hand.

“You like that idea?”

“ _Yes_.” Molly hissed, hips rolling up to meet Caleb’s hand, as he moaned with a climax just out of reach. 

“I wouldn’t touch you at all,” Caleb growled dangerously, “you’d have to come into your own clothes, and get them all sticky with your shit. But then I’d just make you keep them on, so you can feel your own filth, and remind yourself what a dirty bitch you are.”

“Please!” Molly begged, voice rising to a scream as the desperation clawed at his throat, with no trigger for release. “Make me come. I’m so close, I can’t—”

The wizard’s palm crushed down over Molly’s balls, suddenly changing the edge of pleasure into a plunge of excruciating pain. And with that final exquisite inflammation, it was enough. Molly came with a scream, shameless and sensitized, spilling as Caleb roughly coaxed up his seed.

It was blinding. The sensation all drawing together into a spike of too much. Too much of Caleb’s hand, too much of Caleb’s voice. Too much of Caleb. Finally the cliff meeting Molly’s feet, as Caleb pushed him too far, and the pulse of climaxing soiled himself. Cock pulsing, balls aching, mouth crying wantonly, all at Caleb’s urging.

Caleb’s pace was punishing. And like something inexorable, he never stopped. As Molly’s cock began to soften, and Molly’s pleasure began to sour, the wizard kept pushing. Stroking Molly until as he screamed in pleasure, and then stroking him until he wailed in pain. Everything quickly turning, as the wizard backed Molly into a corner, and tortured him.

By the time Caleb allowed him relief, Molly could hardly think. Relentlessly overstimulated, body numb, and sobbing. Softened cock twitching with too much sensation, even after Caleb’s hand had released him. A thoroughly ruined picture, picked apart and boneless, painted with his own spend, and flying high with every second of it.

“ _Ich_ _bin_ _fertig_.” Caleb stated, sitting up.

“Thank you sir—” Molly began.

A sob rose through his chest before he could finish. The drug of endorphins and catharsis making him nakedly honest in his unfettered emotion, as his shell cracked. One of the rare moments when he couldn’t do anything but Feel, so strongly, there was no hope of hiding it. Caleb’s eyes went wide at the shift. First surprise, and then a vicious twist of horror, as he recoiled sharply, choking out, “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—“

“Don’t you fucking dare apologize.” Molly snarled, surging up from the sheets, and holding Caleb’s face between his palms.

Molly couldn’t bare a pain like that: watching Caleb apologize for being perfect.

“You—you’re crying—“ Caleb choked, trying to worm his way out of Molly’s hands, his eyes meeting anything but Molly’s own. “What—what did I—”

“Nothing. Not one fucking thing. You were so perfect, baby.” The tiefling babbled, forehead against Caleb’s, since the wizard wouldn’t look at him, and Molly needed contact somehow. “So good. Fucking amazing.”

“But—“ Caleb choked, guilty, and loosing his grip on the control of his breathing. “Molly—what I said—“ he gagged on the realization, shivering with a sharp backlash of self loathing. “I called you a _slut—“_

Molly swallowed the rest of Caleb’s sentence. With his lips on Caleb’s there was only time for fading heat, and heavenly devotion. It was all consuming. A fire in the tiefling’s belly, a blinding light in the center of his vision, a stabbing knife through the flesh of his heart.

And with so much Worship simple words could barely be enough.

“Gods I love you—“ he sobbed, imperfect and honest. Tongue and tide both released, like a flood he couldn’t hold back. “I fucking love you—“

“What—“

“You beautiful fuck—“

“Molly—“

  
“I love you so fucking much. Perfect. Fucking perfect—“

“Molly, _stop_.” Caleb almost screamed, cutting jagged and broken across Molly’s words.

A staggering silence fell, in which the wizard covered Molly’s mouth with a finger, as if to button up the tiefling’s lips.

“Don’t...” Caleb rasped so faintly Molly could hardly hear. “Don’t say it...you can’t...”

“Can’t say what?” Molly pressed back, hostile in the face of Caleb’s tenacious guilt. “That I love you? I can’t say that?”

“ _Nein_ —“ the wizard stammered weakly, “take—take it back...”

“No!” Molly snarled.

He was so sick of hearing this shit come out of Caleb’s mouth.

It was torture. Watching Caleb cut himself again and again, treating himself like shit, poisoning his mind with his own toxic words. This stupid, stupid wizard believing that he should be punished. But it was only too obvious in Molly’s aching eyes, that Caleb was being punished already. He was punishing himself.

And Molly couldn’t see the point of it.

“No I won’t fucking take it back.” Molly asserted savagely.

The wizard’s eyes were stubbornly fixated in his lap, avoidant of Molly’s gaze. That hurt. Because Molly loved Caleb’s eyes, loved the person behind them, and it stung that they wouldn’t meet him openly.

“I love you, darling boy.” Molly pressed. “I’ll say it as often as I want.” Caleb sobbed, and Molly tried to cup his face, but the wizard wouldn’t raise his head, as Molly continued. “I love you. With all my heart. So unless you can look me in the face, right fucking now. Unless you can fucking—“

Caleb moaned, burrowing his head under his arms, as if to block the world out. And it wasn’t a sound of joy and excitement anymore. It was a shredded, aching wail of _agony_ , wrenched from his throat.

That sound of pain alone would have been enough to soften Molly. The anger vanishing like a magician’s illusion, in the face of Caleb’s misery. As the tiefling realized how truly tortured Caleb was: how deep this crippling injury ran. It was a lacerated bloody mutilation, that Caleb sheltered and favored like a debilitating broken bone that hurt him to walk on.

Remorse surged up like a cloud to constrict Molly’s throat. But the tiefling never got a chance to express it. Caleb wrenched himself out of Molly’s grasp, before words could heal the breach, fleeing toward the door.

“Caleb—“ Molly choked, diving off the bed, and chasing after the wizard.

Shoving through the door into the dining room, Caleb didn’t listen, as Molly stumbled into the room after him. Incoherent protests, and explanations, and apologies all tangled in Molly’s throat, traffic jamming on their way to his mouth. But by then the wizard had found his gifts. And in a blur of magic and movement, he vanished.

Leaving Molly alone in an empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. So guys...I was really scared to post this chapter. It’s a big can of worms for me, and I want things to go well for my characters. But it made so much sense, I knew I had to go down this path, even if it was intimidating to get into. 
> 
> So any feedback you guys have would be much appriciated, and I hope I can keep this story going in the right direction. But maybe don’t hate me in the comments for such a huge cliffhanger?


	24. Inspiration Music (Caleb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instead of using Spotify or something, I’m posting YouTube links, to some of the music that has inspired my interpretation of Caleb and Molly. This way i can give you guys the music, and also explain the songs. 
> 
> This is a representation of Caleb’s past, illustrating the most important steps and characters in the journey. Because Caleb’s backstory is so complicated, and also so viceral, I chose instrumental songs that fit the emotional themes of his story. The violin specifically is a big theme for him, partly because it’s my favorite instrument, and because it can sound so haunting and even sinister.

**[The Royal Household, by Alexandre Desplat](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Jh4PbrBIWrw)**

An emotional illustration of Caleb’s home life. This is the heartbeat of Caleb’s childhood and the song of his parents, warm, peaceful, and gently melodic.

**[King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, by Daniel Pemberton](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=QjWDBEz_6p4%22%22)**

This is the theme of Rexxentrum. I really like this song for the Empire, because it sounds both inexorable, and mechanical. The working cogs of some huge machine, unfeeling and unstoppable in its larger purpose.

**[Danse Macabre, Op 40, by Camille Saint Saëns](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=71fZhMXlGT4)**

This gorgeous peice of music has a story behind it. In the beginning of the song Death plays a tune on his fiddle, that causes the dead to rise from their graves and dance. The Dance of the Dead continues until the rooster crows, heralding the sunrise, and the dead return to the graves from which they came.  
That story is a perfect picture for Trent. As he takes the role of Death, Trent invites his students into a dance that leaves corpses strewn in the wake, as they waltz to the tune of his fiddle.

**[A Postcard to Henry Purcell, by Jean-Yves Thibaudet](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=9ouMlUZt9DI)**

If you watch a lot of Jane Austen adaptations, you’ll know this song. I chose this to represent Astrid, and how Caleb feels about her. She represents a fiddle of another kind, pulling him into a different dance.

**[The Prayer, by Josh Groban and Charlotte Church](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=uUp_T71-g34)**

First of all, this song is beautiful in its own right, and I absolutely adore it. But when the lyrics are applied to Caleb’s story, it gains a much more disturbing quality. At this point in the journey, Caleb and Astrid have come to view Trent’s teachings and the Empire’s power, as a kind of religion. The song reflects that, as they pray to the powers they have come to worship.

**[Now My Son, by Samuel Laflamme](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=MEyYwkNej0A)**

Finally the true horror of Trent’s manipulations are revealed. As Caleb sets fire to his parent’s house, and then watches in horror as they are consumed in flames. The song starts slow with a creeping sense of danger, that only builds with the church bells, until it reaches the broken crescendo of clerical elements and misguided devotion. 

**[Malfoy’s Mission, by Nicholas Hooper](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PHjcJxv9QGA)**

The haunting melancholy of this song represents Caleb’s madness, frozen by guilt and overwhelming grief. As the years pass in the asylum, Caleb is forgotten by the world, and forgotten by himself.

**[The End? by Hans Zimmer](https://youtu.be/aIwbAdBCrTw)**

Molly enter’s the scene, and Caleb’s life is turned upside down. With a rakish, jaunting rhythm, and building momentum that never stops, the bohemian melodies of this song are distinctly Mollymauk. Even the title, questioning the ending of life, and the beginning of death, is very accurate for our favorite Rainbow Man. 

**[Mirror Mirror (White Trailer), by Jeff Williams](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ditCm3Go8TQ)**

I used this song to illustrate Caleb’s mental state, and I’ll let the lyrics explain themselves. _Mirror, what's inside me? Tell me can a heart be turned to stone?_ _Mirror, mirror, what's behind you? Save me from the things I've seen! I can keep it from the world, why won't you let me hide from me?_ _Mirror, mirror, tell me something. Who's the loneliest of all?_ _I'm the loneliest of all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope nobody freaks out because they thought I was updating, and it’s Music instead 😬


	25. Inspiration Music (Mollymauk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Mollymauk’s playlist, loosely following the progression of his story up until this point in the fic. Many of these songs were picked for the lyrics of course, but also for the feel of the songs. There’s a lot of electronic influences, and modern pop sounds, that don’t parallel with the world at all.
> 
> But that’s just Molly’s style.

**[Sweet but Psycho, by Ava Max](https://youtu.be/dXJHDhKJ9Dw)**

My personal enterpretation of Lucien, and how I would describe him. Because we never actually got to explore Molly’s past, I have taken my own path, and chosen to form my own character that I think would logically lead into who Molly becomes. Lucien is driven, obsessed, and more than a little insane. He’s a pretty toxic person, attracting other toxic people, and fully willing to employ toxic means to gain his own ends.

**[Breath of Life, by Florence + The Machine](https://youtu.be/qDRYphZ3Taw)**

In this song Molly and Lucien hang somewhere between life and death. Buried in the ground, their own struggle plays out in the gray area between the Material Plane and the Afterlife. As Lucien catches a glimpse of the Beyond, and Molly breathes the breath of life.

**[Don’t Stop Me Now, by Queen](https://youtu.be/DxQK_ARQmMY)**

Molly discovers himself. As the tiefling accepts his body, accepts his personhood, and accepts his own desires. Our boy is loosing his restraints, eagerly exploring every facet of his world. Life is a party, and Molly is just starting to enjoy the ride.

**[Sex, by Cheat Codes and Kris Kross Amsterdam](https://youtu.be/bpuom-IggfE)**

An tribute to Molly’s sexual experementation, as he embraces his body, and the bodies of many, many others.

**[Come Into My Head, by Kimbra](https://youtu.be/qAtXiTAAYho)**

Echoes of Lucien’s personality reemerge, and the Past expresses his displeasure with how the Present carries himself. This is an inner expression of Lucien’s bitterness, possesiveness, and aggression against the other tenant of their shared space. As he invites Molly deeper, stating that the two of them are meant to conflict. 

**[Warrior (Bonus Track), by Kimbra](https://youtu.be/olO6NYBswLY)**

Molly’s rebuttal to Lucien’s half remembered impulses affecting the Body. This is a power anthem, of Molly declaring his individuality, and refusal to be defined or controlled by the person he used to be. 

**[Sleeping With a Friend, by Neon Trees](https://youtu.be/s3u9IrGgtXQ)**

As Molly’s interest in Caleb starts to develop, he considers the risks and rewards of growing too intimate with a friend. Expressing both his trepidation, and attraction to the wizard. 

**[So Happy I Could Die, by Lady Gaga](https://youtu.be/UaPvEj9g88E)**

The attatchment Molly feels to Caleb only grows stronger, and Molly compensates the only way he knows: with lots and lots of masturbation. 

**[Billie Jean, cover by Eden](https://youtu.be/LQ31Sq_z0Mk)**

Caleb and Molly’s relationship hits its broken climax. As Molly expresses his true feelings, and Caleb responds...with a hauntingly honest edm version of Micheal Jackson’s Billie Jean...Warning the dangers of falling in love, getting too involved, and breaking hearts without meaning to.

**[Into The Unknown, by The Blasting Company](https://youtu.be/12K6ZnPX1gU)**

This is the closing sound of Molly’s fairytale. In it the phantom narrator croons in our ear, about the swirl of fallen leaves, the howl of the moon, and the uncertainty of past and future. In the central words of this song, Molly’s defining creed is exposed: “ _if dreams can’t come true...then why not pretend?_ ”


	26. When You’re an Addams...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Well I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the Lord. But you don't really care for music, do you? Well it goes like this: the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift. The baffled king composing Hallelujah._

“I would like to inform everyone, that I just rented my own room for this evening.” Mollymauk said, sauntering up to the table and interrupting the rest of the Nein while they were occupied with arguing over poker. “So Fjord, you’ll be sleepin’ alone tonight.”

Jester glanced up from her (suspiciously lucky) hand of cards, cast one look at Molly’s face, and smirked. “Ok.”

Of course _she_ would understand.

Fjord, apparently, might need some help. “Why th’heck didja do that?” he said with a frown. “I’ve told ya to gimme a kick if I snore too loud...”

“Yeah, I really don’t get why the fuck we all need to be informed.” Beau grunted, crossing her arms and leaning dangerously far back on two legs of her chair...every fiber of Molly was unbelievably tempted to knock them out from under her...

“I just thought I should warn everyone,” Molly said offhandedly, with a casual shrug. “If you want a word with me: it’s a Proceed at Your Own Risk type of situation.”

“What are you going to do?” Jester asked, with shameless interest.

“Oh ya know, it’s always a gamble. Maybe nothin’ fancy, or I might be interested in more, it all depends on the mood...” Mollymauk replied, tilting his head up to the ceiling as if considering his options. “I’ll probably go more than once, if you really want to know. Probably some strategic patience, definitely some pain while I’m at it...”

“Sounds fun.” The blue skinned girl said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “You should try holding your breath on the _woohoo_ , or something...”

Mollymauk laughed hard enough to draw looks from several strangers, and Jester was grinning evilly. But for various reasons, the rest of the Nein were still woefully confused. Fjord was frowning in befuddlement, Beau was frowning like she wanted to punch something, Nott was taking advantage of everyone else’s distraction as a chance to rearrange her poker hand into a more advantageous one, and Caleb glanced up from his book as if he’d only just realized the others were having a conversation.

“What are we talking about?” The human wizard asked blankly.

“I’m really not sure.” Fjord drawled, “if one of y’all could make things a bit clearer, that migh’ be real helpful.”

Molly said “I’m going to masturbate” and Jester explained “he’s going to masturbate” at the exact same time.

Several things happened all at once.

Beauregard said, “ohhhhh—“ her eyebrows going up, as the light went off in her head. Then, “oh gross. What the fuck dude—“

Fjord glanced between Molly (who was cackling delightedly), and Jester (who was miming the action of jerking off), and choked on air. Nott glanced up from her cheating just in time to hear Jester and Molly’s twin confession, fumbled her cards, and sent them scattering across the table. But the only reaction Molly noticed Caleb’s.

Who zeroed in on Molly’s crotch, then on Molly’s face making direct eye contact, then flushed bright red at being caught out, and hunched over his book.

“Ok, _now_ I understand...” Fjord said, accent strengthened with embarrassment, and looking up at the ceiling as if it was dangerous to lay his eyes anywhere else.

Molly’s head was hurting, but he pulled enough coherence together to maintain some kind of careless facade. “Since you walked in on me last time, and told me to get my own room for that sorta thing...” Molly shrugged. “Not that I mind, but you seemed pretty perturbed, so I thought I’d follow your advice...if it isn’t something that bothers you, I could tell them I won’t—“

“No, no, I think the room is a good idea.” Fjord said, voice going comically high pitched, as he blushed deeply. “You uh—you have a—“

“Oh I will.”

Caleb was blushing, and had his eyes fixedly locked onto his book, pretending to read.

Not that Molly cared enough to notice.

“I just thought I’d put the warning out there,” the tiefling explained, “for anyone not interested Personal Fun Time...”

Beau gagged theatrically at the mention of Personal Fun Time.

“Try not to choke yourself, dear.” Molly replied kindly.

“You’re a goddamn weirdo, I hope you know that.”

“Of course I am, darling.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna need booze before we talk any more.” Beau growled darkly.

“I will go...since you are busy with...games...” Caleb volunteered in an awkward mumble, scooting sideways out of his chair.

“That sounds wonderful!” Molly said brightly, because it was, for more reasons than one. “Off you go, sugar.”

The wizard’s form looked shrunken as he retreated toward the bar. Small, unsure of himself. Without his friends around him, the wizard looked heartbreakingly lonely and vulnerable, one small insecure man hunching his shoulders as if the world rested on them.

Not that Molly noticed.

<><><>

Mollymauk Tealeaf loved to masturbate.

Really he loved pretty much everything about his body. It was a good body. Some dickhead decided they didn’t want it, and now Molly was going to enjoy the fuck out of his time in it, because he liked his body. And partaking in the adventures of pain and pleasure just made it feel like this belonged to him.

Giving himself a little private pampering was par for the course.

So of course, Molly had formed a ritual by now. He had his little steps of preparation, his little ways to relax. They weren’t necessary, and sometimes he was too impatient to take time for them; like when he woke up in the middle of dreaming about sex, and had to bring himself to the desperate finish under the restraint of silence, and Fjord’s presence in the room. (It had been known to happen more than once, thank the Moonweaver Fjord slept so deeply).

But at this moment, Molly was determined to take his time, and enjoy the luxury of every one. Sometimes Molly could be as vain about his body, and fussy about his little private pleasures, as any aristocratic beauty obsessing over her appearance. He prided himself on being, almost literally, a peacock.

Or in other words, he very much enjoyed getting to slowly strip naked in front of the mirror. Usually the Nein were content to stay in any podunk-piece-of-shit-tavern that caught their fancy first. But every now and then, once in a while, Molly got lucky. And they ended up staying somewhere slightly nicer. This was one of those times, and the room was equipped with a large mirror and dressing table. Large enough for Molly to see pretty much all of his body, barring the knees down.

Molly took stock of himself, now almost naked in front of the mirror. He’d stripped down to nothing but the thin yielding fabric of the leggings he wore, leaving the rest of his clothes in an untidy heap around his feet that spoke volumes. And now here he was, scantily covered, and debating where to go next.

Sometimes, Molly had to admit: he really did love himself.

If Caleb were here, he would no doubt find Mollymauk gorgeous, and on this occasion Molly had to agree with him. At this moment, Molly’s appearance couldn’t be described as anything but Tempting in the best way. The canvas of lavender skin, broken by artful tattoos, the pale patchwork of scars, and glitter of piercings.

With a playful hum, Molly preened in front of the mirror, shamelessly admiring what wasn’t hidden beneath his leggings.

There were times when Molly couldn’t enjoy this. The dark moments, when stubbornness failed him, and mortal weakness took over. Times when he could only look at these modifications to his being, and see the reason he’d gotten them.

And at those times the tattoos, the piercings, the vibrant clothes, only reminded him of having nothing. In those moments they spoke of memories. Of clawing out of darkness, into even larger darkness. Of screaming as soon as he had breath. Of piss, and tears, and vomit. The bile of fear, the ache of loneliness, and the bitter taste of dirt still lingering in his mouth. An animal that was alive, but not awake, breathing but completely broken.

It was old, stale, an ancient memory almost forgotten, but never fully shaken.

Molly had done everything he could think of to erase it. He’d traveled far from the place of his birth, filled an empty memory with new ones, mastered his body and made it sing. The hair, the clothes, the jewelry, the tattoos, the piercings: they were all things he savagely claimed for himself. A memory of Mollymauk, that no tenant of this body would ever be able to erase.

Because there were times, when Molly felt the Old Owner rise. Or when he remembered the Emptiness. And when he remembered taking someone else’s place, he felt a fatalistic dread that he would also be replaced.

Waking up one day, with the eyes of someone other...

This wasn’t what he was meant to be thinking about. Molly caught at the edges of his drifting attention with a frown, pulling himself back from the edge. Back into the Now. He had a night to enjoy, a body to pamper, a shy boy forget about.

It was not the time to dig that grave.

Dropping his arms, Molly surveyed himself more critically, deciding his next course of action. This was starting to feel like a night of no reserves, no holds barred. Might as well make it worth it.

Molly shuffled over to his pack, bringing it back to the mirror. On the surface was only what everyone would expect to see: blankets, a water canteen, some dried food for on the road. Below that was a layer of clothes, and other mismatched belongings, like his whetstone and polishing cloths, or the smaller flask for booze. And then there was the bottom layer. The subterranean bed of private belongings, that rarely saw the light of day, while Molly was in company.

And that bottom layer consisted of...well...things that shouldn’t be flashed around in polite society...Not that he particularly cared about what society considered polite. In fact quite the opposite. He was a simple man that lived by two tenets: _never give a fuck about what other people think_ , and _never give a fuck about who you used to be_. So he didn’t in the least mind letting everyone know exactly how kinky he was, as Fjord, and the long suffering Yasha would attest.

So it was without the slightest hint of a blush that Molly tugged out his favorite sex toy, humming an innocuous tune as he smiled.

<><><>

He was so close.

That was the torture of it: he was so fucking close, without being close enough. As the toy hit him just right, stimulating his prostate as he cried out weakly. Fire and bliss, ecstasy throbbing molten through his cock, the need clawing at his veins.

The slide of the toy was easy by now, slicked liquid and burning. With his body so stimulated and eager, already loose and satisfied from three orgasms, there was hardly an effort in the movement at all. It was easy and too much, slick and perfect, relentless against the burning of his muscles that cried out for mercy. With his seed scattered wontonly, his cock crying emptily, and the toy he rode from behind, it was the humiliation he craved.

Still not enough.

He was clinging to every last hope he could grasp, working hard for a climax that wouldn’t come. He reveled in the burn of his empty cock, the ache in his stomach from excessive stimulation, the painful pleasure of his overwhelmed prostate punishing him with every glancing touch from the toy.

Desperately he grasped at pictures, distant memories of Yasha moaning when she thought he was asleep. Imagined watching her finger herself, or watching her finger him. He imagined Caleb fingering him, driven and merciless, teasing the tiefling’s prostate until Molly was broken.

Stop that. He didn’t want Caleb right now.

Molly grasped at pictures of Fjord. Of letting the half orc spank his ass, until Molly was red and smarting, until he climaxed like a slut from the pain, ready to come without a single touch to his neglected cock. He imagined tumbling in bed with Jester. Letting her ride his face until his jaw ached, watching her swallow his cock to the root, feeling her tongue his body from behind as she stroked his needy cock in tandem. He imagined Caleb doing the same things, spanking his ass, spanking his cock, eating him out, and heavy clenching arousal rolled through his gut.

It was useless. He needed to come. And he needed to think of Caleb.

He choked brokenly on the next stimulating thrust of the toy. He imagined it was Caleb’s cock, imagined it was Caleb’s hand fucking the toy into Molly’s slick empty body. If Caleb were here, Molly would ride the toy till death without a complaint. Display himself, sweaty and obscene, cock still sticky with his previous climaxes, greedily accepting the toy as if he were born to it.

Caleb would call him a slut. Caleb would know Molly was a slut. And Molly would show the wizard how truly the titles were deserved. As he let his cock hang free, fucked himself with a toy, begged to come again even though he was already filthy. So aroused it would never be enough, ready to spill himself as often as he could. Just because Caleb was watching, and Molly knew the wizard was secretly pleased.

Molly doubled over as he climaxed. Whimpering as he came, and it was absolute agony. Cock twitching empty, tightening impossibly around nothing, already milked out and stinging with a release that brought no ejaculate with it. His overworked little cock couldn’t produce more that a pitiful dribble of seed, dripping down the side of his cock, as his body throbbed with nothing.

Gods this felt like starving to death.

He screamed. Frustrated and tortured, because it wasn’t enough. The release bringing no relief, the climax never reaching the high, the broken crescendo holding no bliss. As he came for Caleb when Caleb wasn’t there, and the sex had no meaning without him.

Blind to everything but the rage, Molly ripped the toy from his empty body, and flung it across the room. He listened to the impact, as it struck the mirror, and the glass pane violently shattered, and it sent ribbons of vicious despair through him. As he collapsed backwards into bed, breathless and sobbing, curling up in a fetal ball around the pain in his stomach.

Like having nothing.

And yet he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t rest, couldn’t stop. With Caleb’s image burned across the back of his eyes, Molly couldn’t find oblivion. He needed. Needed. _Needed_. With a broken whine of desperation, he returned to his cock. It brought burning tears to his eyes, when he tried to stroke his softened cock, already raw and stinging. Searching for the next climax, the next release, the next orgasm that he knew would be the one.

Like being Empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _But baby I've been here before. I've seen this room and I've walked this floor. You know, I used to live alone before I knew ya. And I've seen your flag on the marble arch. And love is not a victory march...It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah..._


	27. A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Well your faith was strong, but you needed proof. You saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya. She tied you to her kitchen chair, and she broke your throne, and she cut your hair. And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning!
> 
> This chapter describes a Post Traumatic Nightmare that includes elements of: strangulation, blood and gore, and emphasizes vivid sexual themes. 
> 
> Outside of these warnings, I’m also advising caution for descriptions of self loathing, intrusive unwanted thoughts, and briefly mentioned suicidal feelings. 
> 
> I’m providing these warnings because I want you people to stay safe. Be advised that Nightmares, dream sequences, and augmented reality, are writing tropes that I love to explore. Because of this I have endeavored to make the Trauma Dreams in this chapter just as vivid for the readers, as it is for the subject of the dream.

Caleb dreamed.

Of red.

 _Blood_.

_Blood runs into his mouth. He’s choking on it, flails to get away, as hands hold his head down. The flood burns down his throat, sears across his brain._

Of heat.

 _The knife_...

_His organs are spilling out between his fingers, released by the slice in his stomach. He clutches at them, panicking. Tries to hold himself together._

_Then vertigo. As he’s laid out on a table. He screams in his dream._

Whimpers in real life.

_The knife carves downward._

_Through skin, and muscle, and nerves. Until the bones of his ribs are exposed, white and sickly. He can watch the rhythm of his own disjointed breathing, vulnerable, clenching and relaxing in rapid panic._

_His stomach bile rises, bitter and acerbic, filling his mouth as he gags on it. As delicately torturing knives carve runes and spell sigils into the cage of his chest._

Of horror.

_Flesh. Salt. Sex._

_Weight on his tongue, and burning in his throat. The bitter tang of pleasure, leaking into his mouth, spreading across his tongue. A hand in his hair, pleasantly grounding._

“ _Good boy_...”

_The dizzy euphoria of being enough, of losing weight, of letting go._

_Pleasure rises, seed falling weighted on Caleb’s tongue. He give in and doesn’t fight it. Gives in and tries to accept it. Gives in, and provides pleasure_.

_He lifts his head, dirty, and breathless. Trent laughs, and reaches down to wipe slick from Bren’s chin. The fingers press farther, and Bren accepts them onto his tongue. A play, a mock, a mirror of the deed he’s just done. His teacher smiles, so familiar, so satisfied, and let’s Bren play._

“ _That’s my good boy_...”

His noise is something between a whine and a moan.

Then he dreams of Her.

 _Her hands around his neck. Her kiss against his lips. Her body searing against his own_.

“ _Bren_...”

 _She moans as they join, her cunt opening fever warm and soft around him. Kissing her fiercely, he thrusts into her, feeling the union, the closeness of her body and his_.

 _Suddenly She becomes He_.

“ _Caleb_...”

 _The tongue in Caleb’s mouth is unmistakable, skillfully forked, taking him where the tiefling has already been so many times. Caleb cries with it, cries satisfaction and bliss. As Molly rides the thrust of Caleb’s cock, moans when Caleb hits the right place, smiles and strokes the wizard’s face like a cat_.

 _Fire, and venom, and pure painful truth_.

_Molly tips back to let his body fully envelop Caleb’s cock. The tiefling so skillfully seductive, clenching rhythmically where they’re joined. He locks with Caleb’s eyes, and flirts with Caleb’s erection, and grins like a demon when Caleb gives in and thrusts._

“ _You’re such a fucking failure_ ,” _She snarls behind Bren’s back_. “ _happy with It instead_...”

 _Molly fucks himself on Caleb’s body, smiles at Bren’s face, leans in and whispers_. “ _I love you_.”

“ _You said you loved me._ ” _Her voice counters_. “ _You said you loved Them_.” _She reminds him, and he knows who she means_.

The guilt choked him, even in sleep. Scorched with memories of the faces, the voices, the Sin.

 _Molly is sprawling at his feet, gazing up into his face. The knife rests in one hand, her fingers rest in the other. As she whispers in his ear, and strokes across his shoulders. Always, always, her tigress passion egging him on_.

“ _Prove you’re good enough_...”

 _Caleb hesitates on the precipice, lost in the tiefling’s face_.

“ _Prove you’re mine_ ,” _she murmurs gently_.

He whimpered in his sleep, as the phantom whispered in his ear.

“ _Prove you still love me, Bren_.”

 _Bren’s rage finds outlet, as he feels it all again. Familiar, so familiar, the comforting familiarity of murder. He remembers all the sensations_.

 _Red_.

 _Heat_.

 _Horror_.

 _Her_.

 _The tearing of flesh, the crack of breaking bones, the heat and blood. The crimson on his knife, on his hands, across his face_.

_The power and euphoria of being executioner._

_Crimson blood—Molly’s crimson blood—smears across her face, as he seizes her chin._

_Mine_.

 _This isn’t her passion, her zeal, her fire anymore. This is all him. Bren’s fiercely channeled power, his giddy spurn of self control, his sadistically aroused desire_.

“ _I love you_ ,” _she whispers_.

 _As he seizes her face_.

“ _I love you_ ,” _she cries_.

 _He locks lips with her mouth, twines his tongue with her own_.

“ _I love you_ ,” _she moans_.

 _As Bren stands over Molly’s corpse, and makes love to his Soulmate_.

Reality found him screaming. As he clawed awake, trapped under stifling sheets, kicking uselessly against night’s shades. Trembling, sickened, gagging over his guilt. Struggling to breathe with the knife still lodged in his ribs. Struggling to hold back vomit, with the need still clawing up his spine. The erection between his legs filled him with disgust, reaching for anything to hide his shame.

Disgusting...so fucking disgusting...

He’d actually gotten off. Found physical, sexual pleasure, from dreaming such twisted things. It roiled in his stomach, still so close to the surface. Doubling over himself, with no better way to hide, he choked on a poisonous mix of Grief, and Anger, and bitter broken Longing.

“Caleb...” Nott mumbled, coming groggily awake. And then much more sharply, “Caleb!” As she realized what was happening.

Nott’s tiny hands found his face, tried desperately to soothe him. That only made him choke, on guilt and shame, as he cringed away from such a gentle touch. He didn’t deserve it. Couldn’t deserve it.

“ _Nein_ —“ he pleaded uselessly, trying to escape her grip.

“Now, now, shush.” Nott snapped, frighteningly motherly in her tone.

Her kindness made him sick, quaking over the nausea punching a hole through his stomach.

“It was just a bad dream, Cay. Just a dream. Just a nightmare.” Nott murmured, with unbearable, unthinkable gentleness. “It’s not real. Just a bad dream.”

She gathered him in, wrapping up in a comforting embrace, and he broke. She broke him. Taking the last remnant of his control, as she sent it smashing to the ground. The fractured pieces of himself shattering, as he sobbed, deep and punishing. So sick, and tired of his sins. Buried alive under the weight.

“ _Ich wünschte, ich könnte sterben_ —“ He sobbed, shaking around the stabbing pain that seared the center of his stomach.

“There ya go,” Nott murmured like a mother comforting her child, “there ya go. You’re alright. I got ya...I’ve got ya...”

Sick and tired of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Maybe there's a God above. But all I've ever learned from love, was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya. And it's not a cry that you hear at night. It's not somebody who's seen the light...It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah..._


	28. The Red Horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _There is life in the dark. So small, but there you are. Hand in hand, this life, you are something I can't understand. Endless thoughts, they get ahead: blue against my better sense._   
>  _I am trying my best, to fit in with the rest._
> 
> [Who Am I](https://youtu.be/k7aN0G2sEYM), by London Grammar

The low pulse of Frumpkin purr was the only thing that kept Caleb calm all morning. The familiar’s presence had been inseparable from his own, constantly rubbing on his hands, or making biscuits in his lap, or sitting draped around his shoulders. It was centering, distracting, a much needed measure of comfort to keep him grounded.

Sometimes it felt like the cat was the only glue keeping him sane.

So when Jester cooed about wanting her “lumpy boy” and made grabby hands, Caleb unceremoniously held the cat out of her reach, and sat at the other side of the table. The cat settled against Caleb’s stomach, purring deeply, where it radiated through the wizard’s bones.

Molly wasn’t present at the little morning gathering around the table. Neither was Fjord, who’d woken up early, and already left to get his resupply shopping done in peace and quiet, away from the complicated browsing of the rest of the gang.

But it was really the tiefling’s absence that made Caleb’s stomach hurt. A clench forming in his gut, as he looked at Molly’s empty chair. The guilty paranoia of ever present shame, and carefully controlled fear. He wondered if the tiefling knew about the dream and was avoiding him.

 _Red and Iron_...

There were times when Frumpkin could be uncomfortably insightful to his master’s emotional state, and this was one of those moments, as the cat interrupted Caleb before the wizard could drift too far. In his lap Frumpkin growled impatiently, batting at the wizard’s hand, which had stilled in the middle of petting the cat’s head. There was a hint of claws in the reminder too, and the light scratch was enough to return Caleb to the present, startling to himself with a shudder, and a throbbing migraine at the front of his head. Frumpkin meowed mournfully, trying to press his fuzzy head into Caleb’s palm.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb mumbled to the familiar, bending over to fill his senses with kitty fur, “you want your pets, I know.”

A brief mental direction, made the cat turn over, allowing the wizard to bury his face in Frumpkin’s stomach. Caleb pressed Frumpkin’s body into his face, breathing easier, as the rhythm of Frumpkin’s pleased purr, and the warm softness of his fur helped Caleb’s mind to unravel. It was easier to think with the cat, and only the cat.

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb murmured against Frumpkin’s stomach, “ _Du wirst nicht gehen, oder_?”

Frumpkin started kneading at Caleb’s hair on the side of his head.

“CAAAAAYLEB!!!” Jester’s voice broke into his brain, and even if he could have somehow mistaken her voice for someone else, the incessant drumming of Jester’s knuckles on his back were unmistakable.

“ _Ja_ , go away,” Caleb mumbled, so softly that nobody could have heard him. “I am self medicating, with my cat...”

“Caaayleb, I want to talk with you!” Jester continued persistently, grabbing his shoulder and shaking it.

The contact of her hand was overwhelming, too personal, too invasive, and Caleb was forced to resurface in order to shake her off.

He tried not to shudder with relief, when her hand no longer touched him, but it wasn’t a very convincing effort. The repulsion to being touched showed too clearly on his face, and he knew it. But either Jester was too distracted to notice, or she just didn’t care, he couldn’t decide which.

“We’re going to go shopping Cayleb.” Jester announced, as if it were a fixed plan.

“And, when did we decide this?” Caleb stalled.

“Just now!” The tiefling girl said with a fanged and toothy grin. “I’m taking you to buy stuff with me. You need paper don’t you? And I want to buy more pastries, to keep in my bag, so we have to find a bakery.”

“I don’t have any money, Jester—“ Caleb feebly tried to evade.

But Jester just grinned blindingly, and grabbed the edge of his sleeve, to haul him out of his chair. It hardly took an effort for her to physically bully him into moving, apparently costing her no more strength than if she had tried to lift a small child.

“That doesn’t matter.” Jester smiled sweetly up at him, gently disengaging Frumpkin from the wizard’s arm, and draping the cat around Caleb’s neck. Then she reached down to link their pinkies together, which he expected to be overpowering but found surprisingly tolerable to endure without skirting the edge of too much contact. “I’ll pay for anything you need.”

Protests against her generosity, rose thick and fast to his lips, but he couldn’t voice them. Jester swished around, without waiting for such words, and dragged him out of the tavern. It felt a little like being linked to a racehorse, unable to pause, or catch his breath, as Jester cheerfully hauled him along.

In a shorter time than Caleb would have thought possible, the blue skinned tiefling had brought him to a stop in the pentamarket. She allowed him to double over, wheezing with fatigue, as they stilled in front of the shops. Pumat’s magic shop, in all its odd, cozy glory, was waiting in front of them. And Caleb, still catching his breath, glanced at it from under his messy red hair, as if the establishment were a coiled snake waiting to strike.

“Ready to go in?” Jester inquired lightly, as if she could patiently wait all day for Caleb to get over his feebleness.

She couldn’t really be serious about buying him paper...

“I told you, I don’t have any money...”

“I already said that wasn’t a problem!” Jester sunnily retorted, completely deaf to his excuses.

The shop was familiarly tranquil when they entered. Somehow it managed to remain a haven of calm no matter how many customers crowded it. The friendly shape of two Pumats were polishing the various magical artifacts on display, humming the exact same tune, at the exact same pitch, a weirdly perfect harmony of the same voice.

“Hellooooooo!” Jester sang out brightly as they entered, flinging out her arms, and smiling.

“Well hello there!” Both the Pumats said at the same time, and one of them added, “Ms. Jester, Mr. Caleb, its wonderful to see you both.”

“Only two of you here today?” Jester tilted her head on one side.

“Oh...yes...” the first Pumat nodded sagely, “Pumat Prime is on shop business in Rexxentrum, and he took one of us to help him. So it’s just two of us, here at the shop...holdin’ down the fort, as ya might say...”

“Well that must be lonely, without all four of you to hang out together...”

“It’s neither here nor there,” Pumat Sol Number Two said. Then asked more brightly, “what can we do for ya?”

“I need lots of paper!” Jester explained, completely oblivious to the wizard shriveling like a dead plant at her elbow.

“Jester...” Caleb protested under his breath.

“Enchanted Paper, or Enchant _ing_ Paper?”

Both firbolgs smiled widely with interest.

“Um...weeeell...I don’t really know...” Jester mused, and glanced at Caleb for help. “Which kind is it you want?”

“I don’t want any.”

“But, which kind do you use?”

“Please, I really don’t need any paper, Jester...”

“ _Which_ kind do you use?”

Jester was glaring at him sternly, like a mother waiting for her son to apologize for something. Both the Pumats were also looking on with detached interest. Under so many eyes, and so much expectation, Caleb couldn’t do more but hopelessly give up and perform. The last thing he wanted was a scene with the stubbornly reckless Jester, in public, at their favorite magic shop no less.

“I need Enchanting Paper,” he whispered guiltily under his breath.

“Enchanting Paper it is,” the second Pumat said tranquilly. He moved to leave his post, before the first Pumat stopped him with a polite, “already on it.”

“How much do you need?” Jester asked.

But Caleb stubbornly closed his lips at that question. As little of a difference as it would make, he was resolved not to speak the ungodly cost of spell transcription paper out loud. It seemed like sealing his already certain guilt: giving the undefined burden of undeserved kindness, such a substantial total.

Reading the closed look on his face, Jester turned back to the firbolgs without waiting for an answer from Caleb. “I’ll need...” she paused chewing on her lip, and glanced at Caleb out of the corner of her eye.

He desperately shook his head at her, not that it would do any good.

“Lots,” she finished, “enough to copy really big spells.”

“That would cost about three hundred gold pieces, minimum...” Pumat Sol One said doubtfully. “Summa those high level spells can take a lotta time and money...”

“Sure.” Jester said firmly, and Caleb choked on his tongue. “Lets do three hundred. I’ve got that.”

“Alrighty,” Pumat said with a smile, “that will certainly give ya plenty of paper to work with.”

“Jester, please,” Caleb hissed savagely under his breath, trying to get Jester’s attention as she began to stack up her coins. “Please, I really don’t need so much. That’s too much money, I can’t ask you to give me that—“

“You didn’t ask,” Jester snapped back calmly, “I’m giving.”

“It’s too much—“

“Caleb,” Jester rounded on him, suddenly so in earnest it was startling, “I’m giving you a gift. Ok? It’s not too much, if I’m willing to give it.”

“But why—“

“Because I want to.” And she suddenly looked sad. “It makes me happy to give stuff away. I like it.”

Obviously he couldn’t convince her, and he couldn’t find the bravery to stand up to her any more. He watched her stack up the coins, and shove them over to Pumat, with a sinking feeling in his heart, like a criminal being lined up before the noose.

That was the sick truth of it. He wasn’t good enough, kind enough, considerate enough to fight for Jester’s interests more fiercely than his own. He was selfish, and cowardly, and greedy. And he gave in to her words, because he couldn’t stand up to her, when he had so much to benefit from keeping his mouth shut.

He kept his head down, and used her.

“Here you go,” Jester sang, dropping the heavy stack of papers neatly packaged in brown wrapping into his numb hands. “Happy Not Birthday.”

“ _Danke_...”

Why the fuck didn’t he say NO to her until she listened...

Blindly he stumbled after her, as she left the shop, completely deaf to her blithe farewells and parting conversation with the two smiling Pumats. He couldn’t think, couldn’t function, couldn’t do anything but obediently follow after her with the preciously expensive paper clutched against his chest. And Jester, as if totally unaware of her mistake, cheerfully guided him through the market.

Finally they reached a little pastry shop, and Jester unceremoniously dragged him through the door, and shoved him into a chair at one of the little dining tables. “I’ll be back,” she said, and left him alone. Carefully he set down the package he’d been treasuring, and stared at it.

What the fuck was he going to do?

He obviously had to do something. He couldn’t just accept this. It was madness, Jester’s pure shameless insanity, to pay such extravagant sums of money for some piece of shit that could never do a fucking thing for her. It didn’t even make sense. If there could have been an ulterior motive...something she wanted from him...he could have made sense of it, rationalized it, justified the expense. But there was nothing. Not a single fucking thing he had to offer.

Maybe it was a simple as money. She wanted him to pay her back. Shakily he dug into his pockets, already knowing what he would find, but desperately hoping against hope that he was mistaken. No such gift presented itself to him however. All he had to lay on the table next to the paper was four gold pieces, and a handful of copper.

It might be weeks before they risked their lives enough for him to have any money to repay her with...

That left only one option. He knew it, with a dead, aching painful certainty. And now here truly was the test, the challenge to see if he could measure up. Because already it was a bitter struggle. He looked at the paper, and the greed in his heart yearned for it, demanded it, placing before his minds eye all the knowledge at his literal fingertips. There was so much power waiting for him, in that little stack of paper. If only he could throw away his conscience, embrace his selfishness, and keep Jester’s foolish gift for his own. If only...

But he had to take it back.

Take the paper back to Pumat, and beg the kindly firbolgs to return the money. Humble himself, like the piece of shit he was, and beg for Jester’s coins. Then give the paper back to Pumat, and give Jester’s money back to Jester, and swear within himself to never ever go shopping with her again.

“Here,” Jester’s voice interrupted him, as she placed a small paper bag in front of him on the table, “I got you sweet bread because I don’t know what kind of pastry you like—”

Then she paused, eyes sweeping over the scattered coins Caleb hadn’t been able to hide fast enough, and her chubby face darkened.

“Don’t you dare try to pay me back,” she growled ferociously.

The tiefling girl stiffly sat at the table across from him. Caleb, completely cowed, slowly began gathering the coins to slip back into his pockets. Awkward silence reigned, as Jester noisily opened her own pastry bag, and Caleb stared guiltily at the table.

“Try your bread,” Jester pleaded hopefully, nudging the paper bag she’d given him further into his line of focus. “I want to know if you like it.”

For a moment Caleb stared vacantly at the bag, and Jester kept shoving it forward in little hesitant increments. The longer he didn’t respond, the more shrinking her movements became, until her hand stilled on the edge of pushing the bag into his lap without actually gathering any momentum to do it.

“Jester...” Caleb muttered tonelessly, “why are you doing this.”

“Because—“ Jester burst out despairingly, “I want to make you happy!”

Blankly amazed, he stared at her.

“That’s what friends are for!” She explained, “to make each other happy. And you—“ her face fell, and for a moment she looked so deeply grieved it frightened him. “You look so sad, Caleb. When you think no one else can see. You try so hard to keep it away from us, but you look like you want to cry when nobody’s watching you.”

He anchored his eyes on the table, stomach revolting against the truth of her statement. It was so true, it ached.

“You think nobody can tell, but I can tell, and Frumpy can tell, and I wanna make you happy again.” Jester poured out in a rush, as if the confession had broken loose a tide of words, she couldn’t keep in. “I just want to be friends...and get you to be happy...”

“You shouldn’t...” Caleb muttered, shivering with a creeping sense of shame. “You shouldn’t have to be responsible for my happiness...nobody should...”

“See? That fucking sucks. I hate that.” Jester exclaimed, with a toxic mix of frustration and sadness. “You say you don’t deserve things, but nobody else believes that. The only one who doesn’t want you to be happy, is _you_. And thats...” she sniffed, angrily brushing away persistent tears from her chubby cheeks, and looking up at the ceiling. “Thats hard...because I wish you trusted _us_ to believe about yourself, what _we_ all believe about you. Why can’t you just...”

Her words died, and Caleb had no answer for them. Truly, truly he wished he did. There were days when he wanted to find the answer to his problems more than anyone.

“At least—“ Jester quavered, imperfect, emotional, too genuine. Painfully unlike her usual sunshiny self. “I don’t care if you can’t be happy, but at least don’t hide when you’re sad.” A hiccuping sob interrupted her.

His silence wasn’t acceptance. It also wasn’t a refusal, and both of them knew it.

“Why were you sad?” Jester whispered, with heart piercing empathy. “This morning you looked...I dunno...” she reached for something depressing enough to parallel his expression earlier in the tavern, and finished with, “like all the pastries in the whole world were gone.”

“I wasn’t—” Caleb stammered, shifting restlessly in his seat, and fixing his eyes anywhere but Jester’s face. “I—I...”

He couldn’t say it.

“Molly?”

Even the name made Caleb hiss, fighting demanding tears, and sinking his fingernails into his own palms. Frumpkin mewled fretfully, and head butted the side of Caleb’s face.

“Molly.” Jester answered her own question.

“I led him into this, and now he is attached to me, and I cannot allow that.”

“That’s stupid.” Jester said, her face screwing up scornfully.

Caleb nodded wordlessly. It was stupid. So fucking stupid, to let all this get out of hand, to put his guard down. Gods he’d actually believed for two rose colored seconds, while the fairy dust shimmered before his dazzled eyes, that he could be _happy_. Then the sparkling illusion was banished, the fairy dust was just plain dirt, and he was in the real world again.

He was fucking stupid.

“I let him hope,” Caleb mumbled, more to himself than Jester. “That was...cruel...”

“You don’t get to choose how people feel about you, Caleb.” Jester asserted confidently.

Beau had told him that once.

“I can’t—can’t be what he wants,” Caleb vainly tried to explain. Clutching desperately at a way to make her understand that it wasn’t about Molly’s feelings, but Caleb’s own ineptitude. His sin. The burden of guilt, that made him unable to measure up. “I’m not...good enough...”

“Don’t you love him back?” Jester innocently asked.

“I can’t—that has nothing to do with it—“

“But do you love him?” Jester insisted.

Caleb said nothing, and it was a silence that held a thousand words.

“But if you love him, why don’t you just say so?!” Jester demanded, as if that would somehow fix everything.

As if it could really be just that simple.

“Because I have said it before, Jester!” Caleb said, so savagely it made her recoil.

Her silence made him shrink with guilt, ashamed of his lack of self control. She was just trying to help, and he treated her like shit. He treated her like shit, because he was shit, and his filth stained her.

“Astrid.” Jester said, in a tiny whisper.

“ _Ja_.”

“You still love her.”

“I do.” He admitted in a cracked shadow of a voice.

“You still love her, and now you love Molly, and you feel like you have to choose.”

Caleb glanced down at his hands, watching his nails dig into his palms until they bled. But the words would come, and he couldn’t swallow them even though he wanted to.

“I have said it before, and that didn’t stop me then.” He rasped brokenly. “I am...a terrible person, Jester. I have done terrible things. And the people around me, the people I care about...I hurt them the most...I hurt the people I love, even though I love them...”

“Caleb...”

For a second he pictured it. Flames and screams, and Molly’s torture in his ears. It turned his stomach, and he couldn’t stop his emotions from betraying him. The tears burned, and he ducked his head in a futile effort to hide them.

“I can’t do that to him, I can’t hurt him like that. If I let him get close, I’ll—and I can’t—it will kill me to do that again.”

“Do you know that’s what’s going to happen?” Jester asked.

“It is what I always do.” Caleb admitted, like a sinner pleading guilty.

“So you’re protecting him.” Jester stated, “protecting him from yourself.”

“ _Ja._ ”

“Did he ask you to do that?” Jester challenged, her voice hard and clear. “Did he ask you to protect him.”

“He needs me to.”

“But do you think he cares? Is he afraid of you?”

Caleb had no words to say, because he knew. He knew Molly wouldn’t.

“He’s in love with you.”

The weight of that statement suddenly crushed Caleb’s world. Folding in on himself like a feeble plant, he pressed his forehead into the table. It felt like shattering apart, or maybe more like realizing how broken he’d been all along.

“He’s never asked you to be good enough,” Jester’s hands petted through his hair, the rasp of her talon’s through his tousled mane was so similar to the touch of another tiefling, it stabbed him. “He’s never asked you to be something, or protect him, or live up...you’re just burdening yourself...”

Her words hurt. They hurt, and he didn’t want to listen to them. But life hurt anyway. He was tired of hurting, tired of trying. Tired of himself. And at that moment, with so much weariness crushing him under its weight, it was so tempting to leave his little box of safety.

“If Molly isn’t afraid,” Jester said voice softening, “then he doesn’t want you to protect him. And you’ll only hurt him more if you try. You’ll both get hurt.”

“I don’t know how to fix this...” Caleb admitted emptily.

“Stop trying to,” Jester murmured with unusual gentleness. She sounded startlingly like her mother, when she spoke so softly. “What if there is nothing to fix?”

Caleb didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Against Jester’s stubborn blindness, there was no way to make her see. In spite of his own efforts to warn her, she was still hoodwinked, still fooled by him. She was completely oblivious, believing in a version of Caleb that didn’t exist. A version that was everything Caleb knew he really wasn’t. A Caleb worth something. Fuck that...and fuck him...

Fuck you, Caleb Widogast.

“You need to stop doubting him,” Jester’s voice broke in on the edges of his thoughts, “have some faith.”

Faith?

The wizard resisted the urge to laugh bitterly. Maybe Jester still ‘believed’, but Caleb couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Faith was treacherous. People clinging to their faith were broken. Faith was the most destructive force on earth, the inner drive that led soldiers to slaughter their enemies, that made men sacrifice their children. The call of Faith made human life cheep, death easy, and atrocities ‘righteous’.

Faith was poison.

“Molly believes in you!” Jester asserted vigorously, unable to hear his thoughts.

 _Molly has been lied to_! Caleb wanted to scream at her. _You are being lied to. I’m lying to every one of you_.

“Molly doesn’t know me,” Caleb choked, voice fading to a whisper, as he rasped, “doesn’t know what I’ve done...”

“No he doesn’t.” Jester unexpectedly agreed. “Not unless you allow him to.”

That pulled the words up short, left him with nothing to say. His head came up, to find her blue eyes looking down at him with aching gentleness in them.

“He can’t, until you let him in.” The tiefling girl leaned in to say quietly, where nobody but the two of them could listen. “Unless you look him in the face, and say all of this, you’ll never know what he thinks.”

Silence held the table, tense and stale. Caleb could find no words, no easy answer. In the maze of his own making, there were no solutions. Awkwardly he stared at his hands, picking at the fingernails he’d already bitten short, while Jester drummed her talons on the table, leaving tiny bladed dents in the wood.

“Why did you do what you did before?” Jester asked.

Caleb shivered, and hunched on himself.

“You said you hurt people,” she went on more softly, reading his discomfort, “why did you hurt them?”

He pictured it. Seductive power, and conceited confidence. The hand on his back, the smile before his eyes...the ‘good boy’ ringing in his ears...A web of lies, and shame, and validation. The gentleness that could turn sour in a second, hands that hurt and healed in the same touch, bladed praise that tore you down. Strangling to death in the noose of expectations.

“Tell me why.” Jester pushed.

“Because I was proud...” Caleb admitted, picking at a hangnail on his thumb. “I was proud. So proud. Greedy for power, and approval, and success...” He shuddered, bone deep and revolted. “I wanted to...escape my degraded origins...To ‘rise above the filth of my birth, and control the ignorant sheep.’ Become one of the powers, the shepherds with whips, and make them worship—”

“Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!” Jester hurriedly interrupted, wrenching his hands apart as he ripped the hangnail back, deep and bleeding.

He shivered in her grip, shoulders hunched, the echo of Trent’s Liturgies scattered like broken glass in his head. And Jester let him rest, shushing through her fanged teeth with the gentleness of a mother.

“I was only a tool.” Caleb said at last, hollow and empty. “I never had any power...He just let me think I did...”

“Do you still want that power?”

“ _Nien_ , keep it away—“ Caleb hissed, shaking his head emphatically. “I don’t’ want it.”

“You hurt people, because you wanted power,” Jester explained slowly, unveiling the target of all her questions. “But you don’t want power now. There’s no reason to be afraid of it anymore. You won’t hurt someone for personal gain, because you don’t want anything.”

Caleb shook his head.

“Is Molly a good person?” Jester asked suddenly, focused like an interrogator.

Her calculated tone made him apprehensive.

“ _Ja_ , of course he is.”

“Has he ever intentionally hurt you?”

“ _Nien_! How could I—of course not—I’m not—“ Caleb stammered hurriedly, “Jester I’m not afraid of him. I’m afraid of Me.”

“He’s not afraid of you.”

“ _Ja_ well, he should be. I am disgusting.” Caleb spat. “I can’t ever be good enough for him.”

“See that’s Pride, Caleb.” Jester said, almost sharply. “If you want to know whats proud: it’s not the belief that you’re good enough. It’s believing that somehow you can be. That there’s a way to be perfect, better than everyone else, smarter than everyone else, never making mistakes.”

That left him wordless, off guard and outmatched. No quick words to dismiss her.

“The truth is, you’re going to mess up.” Jester said, leaning forward with intense earnestness that bent him under the pressure. “You’re going to mess up, and make a mistake, and hurt Molly. And Molly’s going to mess up, and make mistakes, and hurt you. Does that make him a bad person?”

“Of—of course not—“

“Then why should you be?”

“Jester, I am...I have murdered people, just because they were inconvenient—“

“Still doesn’t make you a bad person.” Jester asserted, with a stubborn hitch to her chin. “There’s a line, Caleb, between hurting someone on accident, and hurting them on purpose. Do you want to hurt Molly on purpose?”

Mutely Caleb shook his head.

“Then hurting him on accident, doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Jester’s assertive wisdom was in full swing. And in spite of the screaming self loathing that clawed, and stabbed, and tortured him at the back of his head...there was a smaller, sweeter voice telling him to listen to her.

“The world is shitty.” Jester said, with surprising pessimism. “It’s going to hurt you. And you’re shitty, and you’re going to hurt other people; and Molly’s shitty, and he’s going to hurt other people too. But none of that makes the world a bad place. And it doesn’t make you, or Molly a bad person. And if you run away from the possibility of ever being hurt, or hurting, you’re never going to see all the good stuff. Because the world is a beautiful place.” She grinned at the contradiction, as she said sadly. “The world is really beautiful. And the beautiful stuff might hurt...but that doesn’t make it less beautiful...or less worth looking at...”

It was a terrible truth. But he knew what she meant. The flawed beauty of a broken mirror, the falseness of a song with one note missing.

“You are a person.” Jester said, “not a good person, not a bad person. Just a person. And you are...” her voice hitched and she sounded nakedly genuine. “You are a beautiful person, Caleb. You are special, with nobody out there like you, and that’s beautiful.”

There was twisted kind of truth in her words, but they rang false in his ears. Rebuffed and deflected, by the walls of his self worth, only a part of her words sank through...but he could at least accept that she thought he was worth it...

“I am so scared...” Caleb hissed, hiding his face against the table, his voice a raw and broken thing. “What if I...fuck it all up...all over again...”

“Thats ok,” Jester said gently, “beauty hurts, and it’s ok to be scared of it. Molly is beautiful, and he might hurt you...Trusting someone else is always kinda scary...but, Caleb...” her hand caressed him carefully, “you’ll never know if you’ve learned your lessons, until you try again.”

Caleb keened emptily.

“Molly loves you,” Jester said, “and that means he thinks your beautiful, and he’s willing to get hurt while admiring you.”

He couldn’t be worth it. Couldn’t be enough. Couldn’t be anything but a piece of shit stained Trash, that should be thrown away. But he could at least accept that Molly thought he was more than that...

“CAYLEB!” Jester suddenly gasped, interrupting his thoughts. “OH MY GOSH LOOK AT THAT—“

She was pointing excitedly at a cart, passing by on the street. Several cages were stacked on it, in which could be seen a menagerie of small, painfully cute baby animals from various species of wildlife.

“They have a baybee fox?!?” Jester gushed, already half way out of her chair, and stumbling toward the street, “ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh—“

“Jester!” Caleb yelped, trying to catch the edge of her skirt, as she shouldered away through the crowd. “Jester, you can’t just buy another animal—“

Not that she was listening...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya gurl Jester living up to that high Wisdom stat.


	29. The Librarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Miles and miles on my own, walk with shame, I follow on. A language to find hard to hear, not to understand, just disappear._
> 
>  
> 
> _To hold your heart, to hold your hand. Would be to me, the greatest thing_  
>  To hold your heart, to hold your hand...Would be to me, the bravest thing...
> 
>  
> 
> [Truth Is a Beautiful Thing](https://youtu.be/bpJRPH_4d-c), by London Grammar

Yasha found him the next morning.

Curled up, small and defeated, on his bed in an empty room. She didn’t say anything, just slipped around the edge of the door, and softly crossed the room. The tiefling didn’t react, and she didn’t particularly expect him to.

He looked awful. Faded in the way a bright color would sour into something pale and dingy, nothing like his usual vibrant self. With all the clothes stripped away, all the smiles, all the obnoxious exuberance, it was just his monochrome lavender color and the droop of his usually active tail.

“Molly.” Yasha said, more to get his attention, than to get any kind of answer.

The tiefling whined under his breath, curling up tighter behind his knees.

“Come on, you’ve gotta get dressed,” she said to the air, because the tiefling clearly wasn’t listening, and bent down to grab his cast off baggy shirt. “At least put on something.”

She crawled half way onto the bed, to rouse him, reaching out to shake his shoulder. Like someone rousing from a nightmare, the tiefling uncurled at the touch. Then the look on his face arrested her: the old heartbroken confusion of a lost soul. It made her stomach curl with apprehension, watching all the signs and wishing they didn’t mean what she thought they meant, as his eyes suddenly filled with tears.

And he whispered “empty,” like it was the only thought he had left.

That word send shards of ice through her stomach, apprehension solidifying into horrifying certainty, as she examined all his broken pieces.

It was bad then.

“No,” Yasha contradicted carefully, like she was speaking to a toddler. “Not empty.”

She tugged him up from his coiled ball in the center of the bed, gathering him into a loose hug. The tiefling immediately grasped back, as if the contact was his life’s blood, clinging persistently around her waist.

“Not empty.” She said again.

Yasha patted the top of his head between his curled horns. “You’re not alone.” She murmured gently.

He sobbed.

Sometimes it was dangerously easy to forget how young he was. Even Yasha forgot. With so much overwhelming confidence, the constant showman’s bravado, it was a simple mistake. He performed as if the entire world was one elaborate stage, a glorified game of pretend. And with the adult appearance of his body, all that drama made it easy to loose sight of his inexperience, his well hidden vulnerability.

But when the mask dropped, it always frightened her, to see how very young he was. Not young in physical age—his body couldn’t be much younger than she felt—but in experience he was still so very immature. He was only two years old, still learning, still guessing, still discovering all the boundaries of the world around him. Only two years.

When she ran, she would never have guessed this was where she would end up. Yet here she was anyway, acting in awkward combination of Molly’s childhood friend and surrogate mother, clumsily balancing the roles. But the true surprise, was finding how little she shrank from the friendship, how much she welcomed it. With the tiefling gathered up protectively in her arms, sniffling against her stomach, and clinging to her with all the force of a needy child, Yasha couldn’t deny that her own affection was just as strong.

She loved him.

Loved like a mother, a sister, a friend. Loved in such a convoluted sense of the word, that she couldn’t describe one role for herself, couldn’t place one name on the feeling. She just knew that she loved him, and that in itself was something new. Not the old tenderness...the lover’s love...but something equally strong and equally unexpected.

“Molly?” Yasha questioned gently, once it looked like the tiefling’s tears were coming to an end, his breath evening out.

Mollymauk nodded shakily, arms constricting a little around her. With a smile, she bear hugged him back. Just to make him squeak at the pressure, and complain with a wordless grumble.

<><><>

“What time is it?” Molly asked, voice dried out and wan.

He couldn’t bring himself to let go of Yasha’s waist. Even now that he realized he was naked, and she was holding his shirt. She’d fucking dressed him every day for nearly a month, she could stand seeing him with his dick out.

“Maybe ten in the morning,” Yasha answered. “I started getting worried, when you didn’t come for breakfast, so I thought I’d just...check...”

Silence took the room, as Molly continued to cling around her waist, and Yasha clumsily patted his back. There was awkward comfort in the gesture, a silently spoken sense of commiseration. It didn’t make him feel better...but it also didn’t make him feel worse.

“You ever been in love?” He mumbled, fighting the burn of new tears in his throat.

“Yes.”

“Did it fucking hurt?”

“Yes.” Yasha said softly. “Love is hard.”

She stroked his hair, and he whined in complaint against the aching burden of emotion he couldn’t shake.

“Are you in love?” Yasha asked, as if she couldn’t already see the answer.

“I think so, dear.” Molly admitted with a sigh of resignation.

“With Caleb?”

“Who else?” He laughed bitterly, “couldn’t have fallen for someone without so much fucking baggage, could I?”

“We can’t choose who we love.” Yasha said, like a self evident truth.

“You tell me this _now_.”

“What did he say?”

“He doesn’t want me.“ Was all Molly could choke out, before his throat closed, and all the words died.

“Oh.”

“So I’m pretty much fucked.”

“I see,” Yasha said. “That is...hard...”

“It fucking sucks.”

For a moment it seemed as if the words would end there. Molly emptied of his words, and Yasha empty of any comforts.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” Molly asked, without the slightest hope of getting an answer. “I mean, where the fuck do you go after that.”

“Do you want to do anything?”

“I mean, what is there to do...”

“That’s not what I asked,” Yasha contradicted, “I asked if you _wanted_ to do anything. Because you can let go, if you want. Go find someone else, go on living and let time take care of it.” Her voice softened, and she continued with unbelievable sympathy. “Or you decide you don’t want to let go. And you just...decide that you want to love, and you do it, even if you don’t get anything back.”

Wordlessly Molly contemplated her words. Let go, or love without being loved back. Only a fucking idiot would choose the second option but...the moment he tried imagining anything else, he wanted to vomit, wanted to cringe away and hide. It hurt.

The truth was, he Loved and it hurt to imagine loosing it. As if such a thing could be out lived, cast away...forgotten...It hurt, because he would loose something. Loose himself. A little warm fragile thing, that would shatter apart at the center of him, leaving a bleeding void behind.

Looking back he could trace so many little moments that he would loos. Not forget, but no longer value. All the little firsts, the little precious moments, would be gone. The first time he and Caleb kissed. The first time Caleb hugged him without Molly asking him to. The first time they walked down a street, and Caleb let Molly hold his hand. It wouldn’t be...wouldn’t be worth it anymore.

The first time Molly fell in love with Caleb’s laugh, would just be another moment with nothing special in it. The first time Molly fell in love with Caleb’s eyes, would become a worthless thing. The first time Molly thought ‘I love you’, would be a painful mistake instead of a joyous epiphany. All these things would be pain instead of pleasure, regret instead of relish, distance instead of intimacy.

Being empty, where before he was full.

That was the heart of it. Loving Caleb gave Molly something, a meaning he didn’t have before. And going back to the way things were, would make him poorer, not richer. Just as if he tried to regress backwards, into the empty grasping child he used to be. Forgetting about all the bruises and scrapes that scarred him, would mean forgetting about the new greater heights he discovered with them.

How many countless times had he hurt himself by accident? Tripped and fallen, scraped his knees, bumped his head. Discovered embarrassments, and failures, and things he couldn’t achieve. But at the same time he’d found the exhilaration of running as fast as he could, the first taste of honey, and the glory of his first sunrise and sunsets.

And here was love. Another first, another unknown. It was new. It was a new thing, that could either hurt him, or make him fly. If past experience had taught him anything, it was that being in love meant both. The choice was that simple: to label Love as another failure, when he fell down and scraped his hands, or as a new freedom.

Fuck it.

He wanted to be in love. He wanted to be in love, fall without reservations, and jump off the cliff to see if there was a bottom. That might mean getting his heart broken. But that didn’t change the fact that he wanted to try. He was a dead man, determined to live. And that meant risking the mistakes and failures.

Life wasn’t in this stuffy little inn room. Life was outside, and Caleb was outside, and Molly couldn’t hide from them both forever.

“Thank you, dear.” Molly said, in a firmer voice than before, and he leaned away to smile up at Yasha’s face.

“Feel better?” She murmured gently, resting her hand on top of his head, with a tiny smile of mingled pride and affection.

“Just dandy,” Molly smirked. Then he held out his hand, and said, “gimme my shirt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Could you take my place and stand here? I do not think you'd take this pain. You'll be on your knees and struggle under the weight. Oh, the truth would be a beautiful thing._
> 
>  
> 
> _Oh, the truth is a beautiful thing..._


	30. The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _They say all roads lead back to home. That ain't where I wanna go, or where I wanna be. All these places that I been, all these faces that I seen, now they're all in front of me._
> 
> _How long till I get where I'm goin'? How far will I go? Run until the street signs are foreign, keep runnin' in the right direction. Fade out but the lights are still glowin'. Tell me where to go. How long will I run without knowin', if I'm runnin' in the right direction?_
> 
> [Right Direction](https://youtu.be/TNd1T8-csBY), by Kimbra

Find Familiar was an amazing spell. Sometimes Caleb could forget that. But always, when Frumpkin’s talent’s proved useful, he was reminded again to be thankful. When the familiar’s mutable body was transformed once more, allowing Caleb new skills and successes.

Frumpkin was amazing.

Perched on the chandelier, encapsulated in the fragile, frantic body of a humming bird, Caleb could see everything. The tiny birds’s senses gave a complete scope of the entire room, without being too noticeable. Frumpkin was just small enough to stuff into a pocket, (which was how Caleb had smuggled him in), and now the humming bird’s tiny body was small enough to conceal among the sweeping burnish of metal and candles that made up the chandelier’s structure. Shakaste had been onto something with the Duchess, and if Frumpkin hadn’t been so attached to a feline appearance, Caleb might have been tempted to keep the familiar as a humming bird.

Not really. Caleb would, in all likelihood, literally go mad without the cat’s prop holding his fragile sense of self to the real world.

Such reflections were only fleeting, because Caleb was busy doing his job, and didn’t have time to do more than congratulate himself on the convenience of Frumpkin’s shape. They were on a mission. Or Case, as Jester and Nott liked to romanticize it. Because the world was cold, impartial, and continued to move on with its doing’s.

And because they needed money.

They pretty much always could do with a little more money, even now that they were what Caleb’s parent’s would have called unnecessarily rich. The more money they made, the more money they needed to spend, so that they were still trying to earn up cash.

They needed money, and the Gentleman paid well.

It was the sort of job that required a group of questionably moral assholes to do it. And the Gentleman had enlisted the help of this _particular_ group of questionably moral assholes for the job, because pretty much all of them could change their appearance on a whim. And because, for as unsubtle as their methods might be, there was no denying that they could get the job done...thoroughly...

Apparently that meant they were going to convey the Gentleman’s...displeasure...to a cohort that had deserted the smuggler’s little brotherhood of thieves, in favor of a more lucrative pursuit. Talebearing for bribes. They were also carrying out the job at a highly visible party of Tri-spire socialites, because the idiot they were after had been so clever about hiding himself, and they needed a reasonable way into the house where he was sheltered, that didn’t involve breaking and entering. So they were scheduled for a night of happy homicide, as they meted out the Gentleman’s punishment, amidst the festive music of a gala of rich people.

Which circled back to his job in all this: keep skyhigh overwatch through Frumpkin, and make sure he knew where everyone—including their target sheltering in the public crowd—was at all times.

Looking over the room, Caleb rechecked the positions of everyone important. He could spot his own small shape, hunched at the edge of the room in a chair, attended by an unnervingly well behaved child. That was Nott of course, disguised to conceal her goblin shape. She was kicking her feet, and he watched her yawn widely, but she didn’t appear to be in mischief yet.

Beau was waltzing, or trying to waltz, with Jester. Really, the Monk looked frustrated enough to punch several people in the throat, and was emanating such an aggressive aura that other dancers were subtly trying to move out of the way. Jester, oblivious to the trepidation of those around her, and the clumsiness of her partner, was doing rather well. She had a natural attraction to the pastime of dancing, as well as some training. The charm of their coupling, if there was any, certainly radiated entirely from Jester.

Fjord was also lingering at the edge of the room, accompanied by Yasha. The hulking woman was staring awkwardly around her, giving off her usual aura of “don’t fuck with me, or I’ll beat your head in with your own arm that I’ve ripped off to use as a club,” which the Nien now recognized as her socially awkward plea for help.

The Aasimar looked like someone uncomfortably aware of how much space they took up, trying to make themselves smaller, and achieving the opposite and making themselves more noticeable instead. Placed next to this uncomfortable display, Fjord was making a charitable effort to make Yasha at least appear more at ease. The half orc was doing his best to make her solitary figure look less out of place, by talking to her, and making it clear that she belonged to somebody instead of seeming attached to no one in particular.

Two other figures uncomfortably caught his attention, as Frumpkin scanned the room. One, a large swarthy fellow, dressed in formal clothes that looked too small for him. For all his bulk, the man had a narrow eyed leer, that made him look both conniving and intelligent. He was definitely going to be a handful. The other figure, carefully cloaked and disguised, was Cree. She’d come along, despite their protests, to monitor their performance for the Gentleman, and also to guide them with the beaconing power of their target’s blood...which she also apparently had. She was lingering by the tables of food and drink, the occasional glitter of her eyes sparkling beneath her hood, as she stubbornly trailed after Mollymauk.

Mollymauk...

The tiefling was haunting. Not beautiful, not radiant, not blinding in his brilliance; but quietly demanding. He was more subdued than he used to be, almost lonely looking. Caleb’s eyes, through Frumpkin were arrested.

Standing by himself, under the festival lights, thoughtfully toying with the roses floating in the punch bowl, he looked like some kind of painting. A vivid figure, in jewel tones, tinged gold by candles. The view was strangely private. A contemplative picture, of Mollymauk, when the show was given up, the songs were over, and it was only Molly’s carefully hidden sincerity behind. The Molly nobody got to see.

Pulling out of the familiar, Caleb returned to himself, at the edge of the room. He could see Molly better, closer, in profile instead of from above. And to his own frustration Caleb couldn’t stop looking. It hurt. An old long held ache of need, that Caleb had either forgotten, or never recognized. Until distance left the void unfilled, the voice fallen silent, and Caleb’s soul was tortured with it.

The rainbow devil man’s carnival of one had caught Caleb’s attention in the beginning, the party Molly enjoyed with himself. But it wasn’t the show that drew the wizard now. It was all smoke and mirrors, he realized, all a glittering illusion. Molly lived through a prismatic version of himself, a mask of carefree freedom pulled over the vulnerability of his heart.

Finally, Caleb could see it. The completely open, _painfully_ open, warmth of Molly’s heart. An intense affection for everything, caring too much, too deeply. Molly spent all his energy trying to dazzle the eyes, and overwhelm the senses. All in an unconscious effort to disguise how much he was enthralled with life himself, wide eyed and nakedly in love with the world.

Molly had a heart deep enough to drown himself in.

Caleb had left his chair, before he could think about it, waving off Nott’s half formed protests. He didn’t know what he was doing, or why he was doing it. Couldn’t explain, couldn’t rationalize, could only move. It was just a feeling, demanding action, without any premeditated thought.

Stumbling across the room, he grabbed Molly’s arm. He couldn’t _look_ at the face that the arm belonged to, that was too close, too vulnerable. And he couldn’t talk, because his heart was in his throat, and his tongue had withered away like a dead leaf. So he mutely dragged, and Molly mutely followed. Until they reached an empty space at the edge of the dancers, and Caleb pulled the tiefling into an awkward kind of embrace, as they started clumsily slow dancing.

“I shouldn’t—“ Caleb stammered awkwardly, “if I sit down all night it will look awkward, but I need to look through Frumpkin...so if we do this you can just...guide me around while I watch...”

“As long as we’re dancing together, I don’t mind. “ Molly laughed, with no rancor in the sound, and he smiled with too much warmth in it. There it was again, the blinding heat of Molly’s heart, close to the surface and unmistakable.

How had Caleb missed the signs? It was so painfully obvious, Molly’s soul was constantly on display. This stupid tiefling was practically naked.

“I won’t be...here...“ Caleb said, and he knew he was blushing furiously. Cursed with pale skin that broadcasted his embarrassment unmistakably. “So just...tap my shoulder if you want something...”

He leaned forward to hide his face against Molly’s shoulder. Partly because he was red as a tomato, and partly because his eyes would blank out when he switched to Frumpkin and needed an excuse to hide them. At least...that was the reason he clung to. But though he claimed to need a cover for some Frumpkin Overwatch, the moment he was hidden in Molly’s shoulder, he didn’t want to blink out, drawn to the close proximity.

So he overheard, when Molly muttered to himself, “you’re close enough...”

Caleb sighed, allowing himself to relax. But the displacement of switching to Frumpkin’s eyes didn’t come. He was still firmly anchored in his own body, willing himself to leave, without actually doing it. As he hesitated for a moment, and a moment longer...Before the heat of Molly’s body worked into Caleb’s head, and the wizard stopped thinking about anything at all...

This...this was piercingly familiar...

Dependable, comforting, unmistakably alive. It was the warmth that made Caleb ache. The fiery warmth of Molly’s body, vibrant and alive, sinking into Caleb’s skin like a gentle bonfire. It was a creeping kind of heat, subtly soaking into Caleb’s bones. The living flame of it left him breathless, tottering with dizzied relief.

Like a torn wound, stitching itself together, the release was almost too much. A raw, hypersensitive alleviation of pressure, that left him smarting. Suddenly overwhelmed, choked by too much, after too long. Tears burned behind his eyelids, drawn to the surface by lacerating knives of comfort. It felt so good that it hurt.

He’d _missed_ this.

Silently he clung to the support of Molly’s frame, and the tiefling gently swayed to the melody of the dance music. As Caleb, like a drowning man, gasped for air and clung to the rock that had appeared under his feet.

Amid the momentary calm of guilt laden peace, the gentle tap of Molly’s finger on his shoulderblades, made the wizard jump.

“Can you listen to me, darling?” Molly tested cautiously.

Caleb struggled not to choke on emotion at the careless affection, and fiercely restrained himself from speaking.

“Maybe it’s just as well that ya can’t answer me,” Molly mused to himself, after waiting fruitlessly for Caleb to respond. “I always have talked your ear off, and it would be out of character to shut up now...so that’s fine...”

Still, Caleb smothered himself, and the words burned like molten fire in his throat.

“Fuck...I’m a fucking mess, darling...” The tiefling chuckled, and the emotion in his voice was clear. “I’m completely fucked...can’t stop, and I don’t think I want to...maybe that’s fucking stupid...” Molly laughed quietly, the sound vibrating through Caleb’s frame.

If only.

If only it were so easy.

“You’re so scared,” Molly hissed, “so scared. And I don’t know what to fucking do. Because everything I say, just backs you up in the corner, and I can’t fix it.” There was a sob caught in Molly’s voice now, something full of pain, and unspoken anguish. “I can’t—I can’t fix it for you. I want to...Lord knows I want to...”

Caleb screamed silently, trapped, smothered, wordless at the back of his mind. Broken and bleeding with how much he wanted the same thing. If it were just that simple.

If it could be that simple.

“I love you, Caleb Widogast...” Molly breathed.

_I_ _love_ _you_... _Mollymauk_ _Tealeaf_...

Caleb almost choked on the thought, stabbed by such a sharp pain, it ached not to cry out. That was the awful, inescapable truth of it. Molly felt as essential to Caleb’s essence as the air he breathed.

Molly’s body, solid and dependable. Molly’s heart, open and easy. Molly’s voice, musical, teasing. Unbelievably filthy, and unbearably gentle. It was just Molly. Caleb wanted Molly. Wanted the tiefling’s laughter, the warmth in his eyes, the touch of his hands. Everything from Molly’s sneeze, to Molly’s smile.

The truth was, that Caleb wanted it.

“I don’t know what that means to you,” Molly mused, “I can’t even imagine...”

The arms around Caleb’s shoulders suddenly tightened. Close enough to be affirming, yet not overpowering. It made thoughts come easily, breath come steadily, mind and body centered.

“But ‘I love you’ means something to me now,” the tiefling continued, gentle but all consuming. He paused there, as if unsure of himself, unsure of Caleb.

The breathless gap burned until Caleb thought he would scream with it. Scream his voice raw, scream his voice bloody, scream as Trent had never been able to make him plead for mercy.

“I’m not giving up on you, sweetheart.” The way Molly said it, almost sadly, made it sound like the tiefling was speaking his own doom...And both of them knew it...

“You should,” Caleb whispered, so softly he doubted Molly could hear it.

Only the tiefling did hear, and laughed, with tears in it as he replied, “ _should_...I’ve never been able to give a fuck about what I _should_ do.”

It wasn’t the first time Molly had made such a reckless assertion, only this time there was so much more weight in it. Caleb could have ignored this declaration, as he had all the others; chalking up Molly’s affection as pity, or indolent entertainment, or simple hotblooded lust. But this, with so little of Molly’s self possession in it, no veil over the vulnerable heart of the words, was hard. So hard to dismiss.

Was that because Caleb believed in Mollymauk...or only because he wanted to...

“I love you, and I’m not giving up on it,” Molly said.

_You don’t deserve it,_  the voices countered, and Caleb wanted so badly to name them, knowing who they were. Trent’s teachings, Astrid’s passionate devotion...anyone but who he knew it was. The words came from no one but himself...

_You’re a monster._

_No one loves you._

_No one should._

“And you’re right,” Molly went on, with an edge of bitter truth in his voice, “I probably should give up. Giving your heart away to someone who feels nothing for you is stupid...So that’s the shitty truth I guess,” the tiefling chuckled darkly. “I’m an idiot, and I don’t know how to take care of myself, so I’m going to fuck myself completely.”

_Just say you love him, Caleb Widogast._ The wizard mentally berated himself. _That’s how fucking easy this is. For once, just this once...make it simple...Just...say it..._

And he said nothing.

 The silence was expectant, as Molly waited, and Caleb waited too, hanging on the words that wouldn’t come. Then the silence turned stagnant, and still Caleb couldn’t move his tongue. And then the silence just was.

“ _Um—uh Caycay—_ “ Nott’s voice peeked at the back of the wizard’s mind, quavering and unsure of herself. “ _I—I don’t know if you’re payin’ attention—but that guy’s movin’. So we should probably track him down, and kill him. Youcanreplytothismessage—_ “

Caleb grinned, half amused, and half melancholy. As if sensing the change, Molly straightened, his body turning brittle with expectation.

 “ _Thank you for checking in_ ,” Caleb muttered, lifting his head and glancing in Nott’s direction. “ _Maybe get a hold of Fjord and Beau, ja_?”

“Nott?” Molly checked, jewelry tinkling as he tilted his head on one side.

“We need to move,” Caleb hissed distractedly, “he’s—“

 “ _Good idea_ ,” Nott interrupted, delayed by her recast. “ _I’ll let ‘em know. You get Molly, and Cree_.” 

“The guy—our target is moving,” Caleb stammered, flapping his hands hurriedly, trying to speak too fast. “We need to—“

“I’ll get Cree.” Mollymauk interrupted firmly, and his face twisted cynically as he added, “she’d want to get orders from me anyway.”

For a split second, Molly hesitated, grabbing Caleb’s arm before the wizard could turn away. Uncomfortably arrested, Caleb froze, all his attention demanded by Mollymauk’s urgency.

“Think about what I said,” Molly whispered gently. “Please?”

“ _Ja_. “ Caleb agreed, without any comprehension in the automatic response.

“Good. Just...just do that...” and Molly turned away with a flair of tinkling jewelry.


	31. The Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Next time I'll be kinder with you. There's just this habit that I have: I throw my words around like fire. They catch on your good heart, and your peace of mind. But next time I'll be kinder..._
> 
> _'Cause I'm damned if I do, and I'm damned if I don't. Every time I swear I will, you swear I won't. There's a better version of me...Stay for the person I'll be..._
> 
> [Version Of Me](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=H_ry_7q8ZCI), by Kimbra. 
> 
> (So often Kimbra uses these funky alternative pop sounds, but when she strips all that away...holy hell is her music haunting...)

_Scheisse, scheisse, scheisse._

Caleb yelped as the door burst in behind them. Suddenly the safe position at the back of the room meant being the closest to the new intruders, as guards swarmed into the room.

Their target, already bleeding from several wounds, shouted “help me! Quick—“ before ducking down behind his desk.

Beau leaped on top of the desk, jabbing down behind it, with the end of her staff. Then Yasha shoved Caleb away from the door, already drawing her sword, and planting her feet.

This just wasn’t going according to plan...

<><><>

Fire itched. So easy. So deadly beneath his fingers. Crawling under his skin like ants, the prickling, itching heat. But the space was so confined, a tiny private office already crowded by the Nien, and now doubly stuffed with bodyguards. Fire would do more harm than good.

There was nowhere to keep out of easy reach. No corners, no positions far out of the thick of it. It was biting him in the ass now, already bloody, and comparatively defenseless. And in a last desperate attempt for survival, he took refuge next to Yasha. It was counterintuitive, but her sheer brutality promised to clean the floor rather quickly, cutting a path through anything in her way.

Which was how he saw it.

As one of the guards toppled, crushed like a broken doll, under the edge of Yasha’s great sword. Then Molly snapped. And it suddenly wasn’t Molly. Caleb knew it, he could feel it. The aggression was foreign, unknown, as if something else had taken puppeteer control of Molly’s face.

It was terrifying. Watching everything that Caleb knew, and wordlessly cared about, vanish in one heart-stopping instant. Overtaken by something dark, something vicious, something driven. A force behind the eyes that was completely new, or maybe completely old. Someone Not Molly, that suddenly had Molly’s body, and snarled from behind Molly’s eyes.

Caleb caught the shift, and it turned his stomach with violent revulsion. He hated it. The foreign thought where Molly’s smile should be.

As the teifling suddenly fixated on the dead guard. Blood wept from his eyes like tears, and he clenched his hand as if to seize something from the air. Which made the guard respond, like a broken doll, suddenly plucked from the ground. The corpse lurched to it’s feet, eyes bleeding like a twisted mirror of the teifling’s, and flung itself on its nearest former ally.

Caleb watched it. So focused that his spell fizzled in the chaos. Until the corpse shuddered, and tumbled back, as lifeless as it had been before, into a twisted heap on the ground.

<><><>

“Come on, get the fuck outta dodge—“ Fjord shouted, already diving out the broken window into the shadowy grounds surrounding the house.

Beau whooped, morbidly cheerful, as she vaulted after him. Leaving just Caleb, Cree, and Molly in the room. Molly, who blindly stood his ground, lost in the haze of blood facing the last of the guards all on his own, spending himself on fierce aggression. Cree, who lingered with wide eyes, like a child watching in awe at a magician’s trick, something akin to worship behind her eyes as she watched Molly fight.

And Caleb, who couldn’t leave the tiefling behind. Shoving himself through the chaos, the wizard grabbed at Molly’s hands. The tiefling fought him, actually struggling to get away and continue the bloodbath, his eyes blazing a fierce bloody red.

“Mollymauk, we’ve got to leave—“ Caleb shouted in the teifling’s face.

And he couldn’t miss it. The tiefling blinked, and the rage was gone, the drive vanishing like a puff of smoke. The foreign aggression vanished, and Molly’s familiar warmth took its vacated position. Everything sliding into place, like a puzzle completed by one missing piece. Eyes darting, confused and off balance, he stared at Caleb’s face.

Caleb watched the shift with unexpected investment. Suddenly bowed under the weight of relief, as Molly, _his_  Molly suddenly reappeared. It was overwhelming, a void that Caleb hadn’t realized terrified him, until it was filled and he almost broke.

But there was no time for the relief, no time for anything but desperate escape, and Caleb had time for only one second of desperate searching in Molly’s face. Then he tugged, and the teifling went limp, allowing Caleb to drag him backwards. With an effort that seemed to take all the good out of him, Caleb shoved Molly out the window, tumbling after himself, and seized Molly’s hand to continue running.

<><><>

Warded by nighttime darkness, Caleb collapsed back against the alley wall, gasping for breath as if he’d just emerged on solid ground after fighting for his life to keep from drowning. He had no idea where the rest of the Nien had run. Only a vague idea of splintered flight, driven by wild animal fear, splitting off from the rest of the group into winding roads and back alleys. Hoping to slow the pursuit, as he wove through the city, with Molly in tow.

Molly...

Breathing just as heavily, Mollymauk stumbled to a halt, frozen without Caleb’s drive to push him any farther. But it was a tortured kind of breathing, something with a child’s despairing tears in it. Limp and nerveless, Molly allowed his swords to drop to the ground, ringing like a death knell on the stones as they came to rest. In the space of a heartbeat, the flames and ice curling over the blades vanished; the one hissing as it winked out with a puff of copper scented smoke, the other vanishing into blood red steam.

“Mollymauk—“ Caleb began, careful and cautious, as if speaking the name of a half wild thing.

“Lucien!” Cree’s voice cut across Caleb’s soft words.

Apparently she’d followed them, tenacious as a stubborn child, or a devout worshiper of forbidden faiths. The dark furred tabaxi’s eyes were glowing in the darkness, a deep golden yellow like lamplight from within. And a wide eyed smile was drawn across her muzzle, unconsciously revealing the half guessed shape of white fangs, as she grinned with fierce joy.

Molly laughed, a hollow joyless thing, and turned to look at her. Smiling as if nothing troubled him, the distress on his face vanished with frightening ease. He looked completely untroubled, open and conversant, smiling at his strangely faithful follower. But Caleb could see it still: a subtle tension at the back of the tiefling’s eyes, where Caleb could guess that Cree was the last person Molly wanted to talk to, still wrestling with his own dark thoughts at the back of his mind.

“Lucien...” Cree said, with an unmistakable cat’s purr in it, and she recklessly flung her arms around Molly’s body, nuzzling to put her head under his chin.

“Where’s this coming from?” Molly said, with a half pained laugh, awkwardly clasping the tabaxi in return.

“Your powers...” the tabaxi breathed, reverent and hushed. “I had not seen them. I didn’t realize...”

Caleb watched Molly bite his lip until it bled, glancing hopelessly up at the night sky, as if asking the celestial bodies for help. There was a pain, so deep behind the tiefling’s eyes, that even one glimpse at it, frightened Caleb.

“Yes...” Molly muttered bitterly, “ _my_ powers...”

“I did not realize you were so strong!” Cree said, pushing back to look at Molly’s face, unconscious in her joyous triumph of the discomfort she could have read in it, if she had cared to look. “You have achieved...miracles...”

“If you want to call them that,” Molly muttered.

“I do!” The tabaxi protested. “This is...incredible...” She reached to seize Molly’s hands, like an eager supplicant, as she urged, “we should find the others. They must see this! We can fight together again, pursue this knowledge, these gifts you have uncovered! They would follow you. I know it. As faithfully as I. With our leader revived,” she paused, eyes shining with whatever vision rose before her mind’s eye. “We could conquer any obstacle in our path...”

The flicker of two different minds passed through Molly’s eyes, in the space of a heartbeat. So fleeting that Caleb, lingering forgotten by the wall, almost couldn’t catch them. A half second of fierce triumph, as Molly looked at the tabaxi, vowing so faithfully to serve him. And then an immediate backlash of revulsion, mixed with fear, and a kind loathing.

“I told you,” Molly said, voice carefully restrained, “that we couldn’t trust them.”

“Surely you have discovered some truth by now,” Cree pressed back. “I could even reach out on your behalf, if you wish. Perhaps a traitor would reveal himself to me, if you have failed to find him...”

“ _No_.” Molly said almost too harshly, before he pulled himself back. “No, Cree, I can’t allow you to do that. It’s out of the question. I must...find my truth on my own...”

“But,” Cree pleaded in a smaller voice, lost and searching vainly for a purpose Molly wouldn’t give her. “What am I to do? How do you wish me to act?” She ducked her head, and whispered sadly, “you no longer confide in me, Lucien...”

For a moment, the tiefling’s face softened. None of the Past’s manipulations, or power hungry dominance in the gesture. This was purely Molly’s softhearted tenderness, far too familiar, for Caleb’s watching eyes to mistake the expression. So often, he’d seen that same empathy directed toward himself.

“You’re doing exactly what I need,” Molly murmured, with his own double meaning behind the reassurance. “Stay out of sight, and don’t draw attention...I don’t know how much anyone knows, or what you might unconsciously tell them.”

“I have no wish to hurt you!” Cree defensively reassured. “How could I?”

“You might. Without meaning to.” Molly steadied his hands on Cree’s shoulder’s, adding sincerity to his words, as he continued with gentle persuasion. “So stay quiet. Don’t reach out to anyone, don’t speak of me, don’t tell anyone what you’ve seen.”

“If you wish it...” the tabaxi said sadly.

“I do,” he replied with a tight smile. “Stay with the Gentleman. He’s a fair master...not a _good_ one...but fair. He’ll treat you with as much honesty as can be expected, while I...find my truth...”

“If that is Lucien’s command,” Cree said, bowed for a moment longer under the weight of her disappointment. Then she straightened her shoulders, and looked up at his face, “then I will do my duty.”

“Thank you Cree.”

“Of course Nonagon. Anything you ask.” She smiled, tight and unhappy, adding in a softer voice, “but maybe...remember me? If you need aid, information...I am always ready to help you.”

“I know you are Cree,” he looked up to glance at their surroundings, and his face hardened with intent. “In fact, maybe you could help now. If you could make sure the road’s are clear, before my friend and I move? Maybe try to find out what happened to the rest of the party...”

Cree glanced at Caleb, as if she’d only just realized he was present. Then she cast one last look at Mollymauk, and nodded. “Of course,” she said fervently, as if eager to be useful “you can’t think of moving until it’s safe. Let me look around, and make sure.”

Molly smiled wordlessly, and patted her shoulder. With a last toothy smile Cree ducked back into the open street. Flitting with catlike grace from shadow to shadow, her dark fur blending into the darker night, she vanished into the city.

Which left Molly and Caleb alone.

The teifling stumbled, as soon Cree was gone, swaying on his feet. As if all the weight of the world had suddenly landed on his shoulders, crushing him under the burden. It was a painfully honest view, with no stunts, and no smiles to mask Mollymauk’s pain. He looked small. Defeated. Hurting, and hopelessly unable to hide it.

“Mollymauk?” Caleb questioned, sounding timid and uncertain even to himself. He hated the weakness in his voice, too much vulnerable honesty exposed.

The teifling glanced at Caleb, clinging uncertainly to the alley wall, and smiled with faded bravado. “Hello, darling...”

“How—“ Caleb faltered, searching for words that were safe, comforting. For a way to end Molly’s pain. “How are you?”

“Me?” Molly said, with a fractured crack running through the center of his cheer, “I’m just dandy, love—“

The tiefling absentmindedly reached up to wipe his cheek. His fingers came away scarlet, stained crimson by the bloody tears he’d shed during the fight. Molly glanced at it, then suddenly swayed on his feet, and collapsed to sitting on the cobblestones, as his knees gave out. Caleb dove forward, too late to save the tiefling’s fall, ending up on his knees, at Molly’s side.

“No you’re not,” Caleb said, words catching painfully in his throat.

“Was tryin’ not to let on.” Molly mumbled dizzily, still staring at his fingers. “Might be in worse shape than I thought...”

“I—I don’t know how to help—“ Caleb cast uselessly for solutions, coming up empty handed, as he crouched anxiously at Molly’s side. “If I had Frumpkin, you could hug him for a bit. He’s helpful like that—but he’s just a hummingbird right now and that’s not—“

The tug of Molly’s hand on the wizard’s sleeve brought the words to a halt. And Molly whispered, so cracked and choked that Caleb could hardly understand him. “I’d rather have a hug from you...if you don’t mind...”

It was a small thing to give. Not nearly enough, never enough. But it was what Caleb had to offer, and he blindly gave it up. Throwing his arms around the tiefling’s shoulders, crushing the lavender man into as hard of a grip as he could manage. (It wasn’t an extremely strong hug). Molly grasped back, fingers latching into the back of Caleb’s coat, as he gasped shakily against Caleb’s chest.

“You were—you were not _you_ —“ Caleb stammered, distraught and anxious, tongue tripping over words. “That—that wasn’t you. I’ve never seen that. You were gone, somewhere, I don’t—I didn’t know—“ he shook his head, mingled panic and relief making his voice rough, “I didn’t know you.”

Mollymauk suddenly choked on tears, clinging to Caleb’s shoulders for dear life. As the tiefling gave up the fight, and let his grief out, in bitter punishing sobs. Caleb watched with a kind of shocked horror. He’d never seen Molly cry, openly cry, about anything. Yes he’d seen the tiefling shed tears, full of pained sympathy for Caleb, but this was a different thing. Molly’s pain, and Molly’s hurt, and Molly’s overburdened heart.

Tears Molly shed for himself.

Desperately Caleb searched for words of comfort. Grasping blindly at the only familiar guides he had, Caleb muttered in Zemnian, echoing old comforts and reassurances from a childhood he’d ruined long long ago. He mumbled clumsily in his own language, and rocked gently, because it was what others had done for him, and he could only vaguely hope that such things would have the same affect for Molly.

It wasn’t much, but seemed to help. And Molly’s despair was both vicious, and short lived. The tiefling soon calmed, sobs turning into shaky emotion laden breathing. And through it all, he never showed the slightest sign of pulling away, clinging to Caleb as if the Molly life depended on it.

“You know,” Molly croaked, bleakly honest, “I’m so terrified he’s going to come back...”

“Shhh,” Caleb hissed.

“That if I make a mistake, or see something that unlocks it, he’ll come right back...I’ll just be...forgotten...”

“Nein...”

“I don’t want to forget,” the tiefling hissed, laden with unspoken fearful pain. “I like it here. I like this body...I like _me_...”

“Mollymauk...” Caleb mumbled sadly.

The teifling shuddered, and gripped more tightly around Caleb’s shoulders. “Say my name again.” He demanded.

“Mollymauk.”

“The full thing.”

“Mollymauk Tealeaf,” Caleb declared, brushing his fingers over one of the tiefling’s horn. “Meine Herr Mollymauk Tealeaf...”

“If I ever go somewhere like that again, you need to say that to me.” Molly commanded harshly. “Do you understand me? Always. You need to say my name.”

“Ja.”

“You have to. Please. Fucking promise me you will.”

“Of course,” Caleb hastily affirmed, “anything you want. I swear.”

“Thank fuck...” Molly sighed, relaxing against Caleb’s arms.

Caleb smiled in the dark, and squeezed the tiefling a fraction tighter.

“That’s what saved it you know: when ya said my name.” Molly muttered after a careful silence. “I was gone until then. He— _we_ —were ready to fuckin’ die in a blaze of glory...” he shuddered, and continued in a disgust tainted voice. “I don’t know where the fuck I went, but you said my name, and it just...reminded me.”

“That’s _gut_.” Caleb said, the statement falling woefully short of everything he wanted to say, but didn’t dare put a voice to. “I am...glad I helped...” 

“Yeah it is,” Molly agreed, equally bland.

A long moment’s silence passed. In that silence Caleb struggled fiercely, conflicted within himself. As he fought to untie the restraints on his tongue, searching for the noose that kept him mute, the magic to make him enough. But in the face of his fears, the words withered on his tongue.

“I’m glad you’re back.” Was all the wizard could manage to voice, the words wrenched out reluctantly.

Molly sobbed again, the painful sound leaving Caleb grasping and confused. He didn’t understand what he’d said to upset the teifling. But something had. Because Molly was shivering, and breathing hard, as if it was taking every ounce of his self control no to show more distress.

“I love you, darling...”

The answering thought rose again, ringing just as clearly as before. Caleb smothered it, not to choke it out, or bury it in the back of his mind. He held it on the base of his tongue, a secret he couldn’t work up the words to say. So he turned the thought into a beat he squeezed into the teifling’s shoulder, each squeeze of his hand speaking one of the words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be honest, I feel a bit iffy about this chapter. But I messed with it, and rearranged it, and then considered taking it out, but then decided to put it back, and just...yeah... I kinda just had to let it be, because I was never gonna feel 100% about it. 
> 
> And before you ask, the plot points in the chapter aren’t going to get resolved. Partly because I don’t wanna open that can of worms, and partly because Molly would do exactly what I’m going to: say “fuck that” and completely forget about it.


	32. The Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When there’s nothing but roaring sound, I will be beside you._   
>  _When there’s nothing but the long drop down, I will be beside you._
> 
> _When your fears are a swarm in the hive of your mind...When the tears of your life and your loss are entwined..._
> 
> [Beside You](https://youtu.be/49vGlSyf05A), by Phildel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *angels sing the Hallelujah Chorus*

Molly loved to travel.

He lived for it. The freedom of new sights and sounds, the new smells, the new faces. Distant views of mountains, blue and majestic on the horizon. Sweeping plains of grass, and the occasional tree, flowing in the winds like a green wave ever cresting and renewing. The sunsets cast in jewel tones, setting the skies aflame.

The world sang to Molly’s blood.

That said, having an ass ache after hours of sitting in the wagon, was a marked downside. As was listening to Beau bitch about said ass ache. Even haphazardly practicing flourishes with his tarot cards got boring after a while.

“Fuuuuck—“ Beau growled for probably the hundredth time, “I’ve got wood splinters from this wagon so far up my fucking ass, I could pick my teeth with them.”

“That is...graphic...” Caleb muttered, turning a page in his book, without glancing up.

“Paints a picture.” Nott agreed.

Silence once again lapsed over the cart, as they continued to sway down the uneven dirt road. Beau lasted for about five seconds, before she groaned theatrically, and leaned back to look at the sky.

“Fjooooord...”

The half orc, loosely holding the horse’s reigns, only grunted noncommittally in response.

“Can’t we stop somewhere...I’m seriously never going to lie down again, if I have to sit in this fucking cart much longer, I’ll be paralyzed in a sitting position. You’ll just have to carry me piggyback everywhere.”

“Y’could always just get outta the wagon and _walk_.”

“God, you’re such a Dad,” Beau said with an eye roll palpable in her voice.

“It was a genuine point,” Fjord shot back defensively, “jus’ walk, if you’re stiff.”

“Uh-huh,” Beau muttered, “still not helpful Dad.”

“Seriously. I’m not your father. That’s weird.”

“Sure.” Beau agreed sarcastically. “Totally not the dad friend.”

“Here,” Jester said, digging in her pack and pulling out a book. “If you’re bored, you can borrow that. It’s a dirty book I got recently.”

“What’s it called?” Molly called over his shoulder, drawn from the view out the back of the wagon, by the mention of Jester’s reading tastes.

“The Willing Wolfe,” Jester said.

“Sounds promising,” Molly grinned, a mischievous twitch flicking in the tip of his tail.

“It’s really good. There’s a whoooole bunch of werewolf fucking. Doggy style, with notting...”

“Gross,” Beau complained sourly, “all your books are full of dick, Jes.”

“Beauregard darling,” Molly said, feigning wonderment. “Sometimes I forget how fucking gay you are...and then you complain about dicks, and I remember all over again...”

“Fuck oooooff,” Beau groaned.

Molly snickered to himself.

“Seriously though, Jester,” Beau said, looking at the book with extreme skepticism. “Is there anything in this book worth remembering besides the,” and she said with a disgusted grimace, “werewolf dick?”

“Oh man, it’s really cool!” Jester gushed. “It’s about a werewolf clan, that gets enslaved by this vampire guy, and their eldest son is basically forced to be the vampire’s personal servant, and just hang around in sexy outfits and stuff. But the wolf guy starts to figure out that the vampire guy is actually _nice_ , and like, has a soft side. And then they become friends, and then they fuck, and then they fight a bunch of—“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—why I’m I getting a whole rundown of the plot?“ Beau interrupted hastily, “what the fuck happened to reading the actual book?”

“So you’re gonna read it?” Jester asked mischievously.

“I didn’t say that—“

“No it’s cool,” Jester continued without waiting for Beau’s protests, “read it out loud. I wanna listen.”

“Seriously I never said I—“

“Come on darlin’,” Molly taunted over his shoulder. “Read it out loud! We’re all waiting on your dulcet tones.”

“You said there’s fighting?” Beau said to Jester, after a stubborn silence.

“Yep”

“And they kick fucking ass?”

“So much ass,” Jester agreed with an eyebrow wiggle that made it ambiguous what kind of situation she was talking about.

“I guess...” Beau growled, “as long as the plot is actually good...not just dicks...”

Jester squealed and clapped her hands, bouncing in her seat, even while the wagon bounced her anyway. Molly gave a rowdy whoop, tail flicking restlessly, as he prepared to get thoroughly turned on. Nott glanced suspiciously around the circle of friends, and crossed her arms, as if guarding a secret. Fjord at the front of the wagon groaned, a greenish blush creeping up the back of his neck. Caleb stoically read on, oblivious to the conversation around him, as he devoured the words before him with frightening speed and turned to the next page.

“ _All power begins with the Moon_ ,” Beau read, her voice overly dramatized and spiritual.

“Good start,” Molly absently commented, The Moon card appearing in his hand, as he carelessly shuffled it through his fingers.

“ _Full, free, feral, and brilliant; the mother of the night. She guides the stars, her white face treads the halls of heaven, her entourage of mists and murk on following. The deeds of the night are in her sway, the passions of darkness revealed. At night the wolf stalks his pray, the thief creeps unheard, and the lover steals so sweetly into forbidden chambers. All these are children of the night. Of the white lady in her midnight hall. Of Mother Moon_.”

Mollymauk shivered, gazing fixedly at The Moon in his hand. The card’s graphic fell laughably short of the Moonweaver’s full brilliance, but it was a faint mirror, a shadow. And with the novel’s stirring narrative, the mere shadow was enough to kindle his devotion. Haunted with the memory of his own sacred moon.

Then Caleb’s hand appeared at the edge of his vision, and the wizard carefully drew the tarot card out of Molly’s fingers. With a crestfallen hum Molly came out of his trance and glanced up. As soon as he did, the guiltily conflicted look on Caleb’s face arrested the tiefling’s complete attention, and the story faded into the back ground.

“Can I—“ the wizard stammered, anxiety visibly thrumming beneath his skin, “I wanted—I wanted to talk...but if this is a bad time...”

“Of course not darling,” Molly protested kindly, “talk as much as you like.”

“Can I—could I...have that?” Shrinkingly pointing toward the deck in Molly’s hand.

“Anything you want dearest,” Molly said carefully, passing the deck over willingly.

Wordlessly Caleb took the cards and settled, swinging his legs over to dangle beside Molly’s as they sat shoulder to shoulder.

“I am—I am going to...” Caleb faltered, eyes darting as they rested anywhere but Molly beside him, “I am going to tell you a story...as well...”

“A story?” Molly probed, confused and on guard in the same instant.

Caleb awkwardly glanced away, nodding with his face averted.

“Is this a real story?” The tiefling asked carefully. 

“It—it happened—to someone—someone I knew...” Caleb admitted, ducking his head over the admission.

“Who was it?” Molly asked, little doubting the answer.

“A...a boy...” Caleb declared clumsily, “named...” he faltered, stumbling over his confession as if it hurt him. “Named. Bren...”

Molly stiffened, defenses raised at the name, and all the half revealed secrets associated with it. Caleb fixed his attention on the cards, pretending not to notice. The wizard was clearly looking for one particular card, and finally revealed the card’s face, as he plucked it from the others. An old man, with two stacks of books on his palms...The Librarian...

“In...in the story there is a boy...named Bren Ermendrud...” Caleb began, faltering in his recitation. “And he was...he—he was in love...”

Caleb straightened, collecting the pieces of himself back into functional order, as he forced himself to keep speaking “He was in love with many people.” He explained, “He was in love with his Mutter and Vater...and he was in love with his friends. He was...in love with his life...”

Impulsively Caleb stuffed the Librarian into Molly’s grip, and the tiefling silently accepted it. As Caleb sorted out another card, his spellscarred fingers searching clumsily for the image he wanted. Finally he pulled out his choice. This one an image of an impossibly tall man, towering over the silhouetted shapes of city buildings and backgrounded by a map of the world. The man himself was clothed in gold leafed robes, with a crown of iron spikes on his head, holding a chain of gold in one hand, and a severed head in the other. Written along the bottom was the title: Imperator.

“This boy...made a—a mistake.” Caleb went on, displaying the new card for Molly’s eyes. “He fell in love with someone...A man with power...”

“What was his name?”

Nervously licking his lips, Caleb glanced at the sky, and continued in a shaking voice of barely maintained resolve. “Trent—Trent Ikithon...This man was wise...and _charming_...” The wizard grimaced, “and Bren was eager to learn from him. They...they used each other: Bren. And the man.”

The wizard pushed the card into Molly’s fingers, and the teifling laid it on top of the other in his palm.

“What did the teacher want?” Molly asked sadly, watching the anxious range of expressions cross Caleb’s face, each one replaced with a new kind of doubtful hesitance following on the heels of the old.

“Tools.” The wizard hissed. “The teacher was cruel...but this boy didn’t care...” Caleb shivered. “He said, ‘my body is a small price to pay’...and he paid it...”

Molly shivered, smothering a gag in his throat.

“This man, he kept asking for more,” Caleb said, hunching on himself, and rocking in his seat with unchanneled anxious energy. “Always. More, and more, and more.”

The wizard paused, taking refuge in another hunt through the cards to keep him busy while he choked on his words. Finally emerging empty handed, chewing his lip, and still no closer to the words Molly could see hanging on the wizard’s tongue.

“He gave everything he had.” Caleb said finally, gesturing emptily. “He gave his hands, for the teacher to use. Gave his mouth, for the teacher to speak with...He gave—gave his mind...for the teacher to fill with thoughts...When the teacher asked for a thing, Bren gave it. Without question.”

Pausing, Caleb fished out another card. This one an image of a disembodied hand, brandishing a sword, and a dagger. Both hand and knives were surrounded by flames, filling the card’s margins. The Ace of Blades.

“The teacher still...still wanted more...” Caleb went on, his voice twisting with sickened guilt, as he clutched the ace in nerveless fingers. “And the teacher asked...The teacher asked for...Bren’s loved ones. And he gave them.” Caleb faltered, as he ducked his head, gasping on a sob. “Bren burned everything. He burned the life that he loved. The town that he loved. The pa—the parents that he loved. He burned everything that wasn’t Trent.”

Caleb’s voice died after the straightforward confession, finally speaking without riddles. Molly, looking on with deeply aching pain, could only witness Caleb’s torture wordlessly. There were no words to say, nothing easy enough to heal this wound.

“Bren broke.” Caleb said, with the emptiness of death in his voice. “He burned himself alive...and it um...it broke him...”

“How did he break?” Molly said carefully, glancing sidelong at Caleb’s face.

“They—they locked him up—“ Caleb explained, anxious and shrinking, picking at the edges of his bandages. “In a uh—in a place for...for crazy people...” he nodded, eyes looking blindly at something beyond physical vision. “Broken people go there to...to be forgotten about. Because nobody can fix them.”

“How long?” Molly breathed, pain and empathy caught like a fisherman’s hook in his throat.

“I don’t know...years...” Caleb stated tiredly. “They um...they told Bren that he was mad. That everything was—“ he waved vaguely before him, “and he was just crazy. There was no fire, and—and no Trent...And he believed them,” Caleb shook his head, as if the confusion and lies was a physical burden still clinging to him. “Someone had to make him remember before he stopped believing that...so it took him a long time to get out of there...”

“But he did get out.”

“Ja, he ran. He ran away...” Caleb’s words trailed off, and he finished in a broken whisper, “he’s always running...”

“What happened to him after that?” Molly asked, because Caleb had lapsed into burdened silence. “Did they catch him?”

Hastily, as if struggling to get the ordeal over and speak his mind, Caleb pulled free of himself and squared his shoulders. “Nein,” he said, searching for another card. “He met someone...”

The new card came. This time a clear depiction of a demon, with the title Asmodeus written in black letters. Standing on a pile of bodies, with a spear in one fist, and an open scroll in the other that unspooled all the way to the bottom of the card.

“He met the devil—“ Caleb choked, voice shattered and broken. “And the devil was so kind, so good. More than I could ever ask for—and he—the devil—“ Caleb dropped his head, and whispered like it was the most unforgivable crime, “the devil fell in love with Bren...”

“Yes he did,” Molly hissed, voice laced with a different kind of pain than the empathy that pierced him.

“And now Bren doesn’t know what to do,” Caleb choked, gaining a frantic edge to his voice. “Because he can’t—shouldn’t—Bren did horrible things. To everyone. All the people he cared about. He is a...a disgusting person...”

“Shush, now.” Molly growled resentfully.

“He is...covered in shit. And sin. He’s nothing. Nothing...”

“Shush...” The tiefling said, softer, more gentle.

“I don’t know what to do, because I can’t—I can’t try...I’m so afraid to try...” Caleb said, half suffocated and gaging on his own guilty confusion.

Molly silenced the wizard’s struggle with a hand around Caleb’s. As the tiefling reached out to cup Caleb’s cheek, and pull the wizard’s face forward, until Molly’s too warm lips met Caleb’s forehead. Caleb shuddered, and his hand in Molly’s suddenly gripped so painfully tight, it felt like the wizard was about to break Molly’s fingers.

Drawing away, Molly did his best to catch Caleb’s eye, gazing soulfully at the wizard’s face. Once again caught and enthralled with the beauty of the picture, only now Molly was far beyond hiding it.

“I don’t care.” Molly said gently. “About your past.”

Confused, Caleb frowned at Molly’s shoulder.

“I mean I do _care_ —“ the tiefling backtracked, “I care about how it affects you—but I don’t— _I_ don’t care.”

Silence hung between them, and even now, Molly wasn’t sure the words were getting through, making any impression in Caleb’s head. But for once, that wasn’t the goal. He didn’t need to convince Caleb, he just needed to say it, and choose not to worry about what Caleb would hear.

“I don’t care about the past, or the future, or some idea of outliving the one by chasin’ the other.” Molly said, with a shrug. “That’s not...not _me_...”

Molly tipped his head back, taking in the sapphire sky. The blue expanse of crystalline firmament, stretching so vast and opaque above his head, he could picture the vaulted majesty of it as a solid thing. The breeze toyed like a wild thing in Molly’s hair, leaving insubstantial caresses along the curling shape of his horns. He closed his eyes to breathe it, letting the sky fill him with a fresh wind untasted by other beings. It settled him, feeling the hiss of the wind, and the blood red sun behind his eyelids. The heartbeat of the world.

“See here’s the thing Caleb...” Molly said, with his eyes closed, willing to risk speaking when Caleb wouldn’t listen. “I’ve learned, that you don’t need a past to be a person. And you don’t need a future to have a purpose.”

The teifling cracked an eye open, and glanced sidelong at Caleb’s face. The wizard looked calmer, contemplative, frowning thoughtfully at the dirt road rolling by beneath their dangling feet.

“I don’t have a past. And I don’t need it.” Molly continued, closing his eyes to give Caleb his thoughtful privacy. “And as far as I’m concerned, you don’t need it either. I don’t care. I never cared.” He smiled blindly at the sky, and said earnestly, “that’s not who I am.”

There was a release to saying it. Finding his place, and taking his stand on it. The truth that defined him. And maybe Caleb couldn’t share it. But it they were destined to meet their doom, standing on opposing foundations—like children playing king of the hill—this was the rock Molly was willing to plant his feet on.

He wouldn’t care about what was said and done.

“I just have the Now,” Molly said, lighter, grinning at the sky. “Just the present. No yesterday. No tomorrow. I can’t change what’s done, and I can’t predict what’s coming. All I’ve got is _this_. This little slip of time in between. When it’s not past or future, but just...right now...”

Opening his eyes, Molly tethered himself back to the earth. Glancing over at Caleb’s face, with a gentle smile, and giving the nerveless finger’s in his own lavender grip a gentle squeeze. Caleb smiled, a weak hesitant thing directed away from Molly’s face, but a smile nonetheless.

“D’you understand what I’m sayin’ darling?” Molly asked softly, tilting his head to get a better look at Caleb’s face. “I don’t care about the past, or the future,” Molly confessed in a murmur, “but, darling...I do want your _Now_.”

Caleb didn’t agree. Didn’t contradict. He just squeezed wrenchingly tight around Molly’s fingers again. It was answer enough. For a long moment they sat silently, backgrounded by the sound of Beau reading, deeply invested in the narration of a sex scene. Then Caleb squirmed. Not to get away, but to get another card out of Molly’s tarot deck. Wordlessly the wizard tucked the card into Molly’s palm, and the tiefling glanced down to look at it. Two people, the sun, and the moon.

The Lovers.

“I am ok with Now.” Caleb said jerkily, stubbornly anchoring his eyes on the card in Molly’s hand.

Molly had expected to find the confession overpowering. As raw, and unfettered, and emotional as his own had been. Some grand revelation of truth, breaking like a thunder crack overhead, flashing with the power of lightning and fire.

But the wizard’s words were as quiet as Caleb himself.

Fragile things, hard to hear, easy to miss, but so deeply sincere. Something sacred, like a sunrise that happened so slowly, you almost didn’t notice the gray turning gold.

Then the wizard leaned into Molly’s shoulder, and the tiefling pillowed his head on top of Caleb’s rusty hair.

It was enough. The wind was blowing, friendly and caressing around them, a free and unfettered thing. Overhead clouds passed like insubstantial visions, some of them animals or plants, others etherial and unnamed entirely. They were surrounded by their friends, and leaning on each other. And it was enough.

“I love you dear,” Molly said quietly, kicking his feet over the back of the cart.

“ _Ja_...” Caleb hissed, soft and shy, squeezing around Molly’s hand.

“Wait. What the fuck is happening?!?” Fjord’s indignantly countrified squeak broke through the moment’s tranquility.

For a moment Molly stiffened, and Caleb froze like a pray animal, both afraid that their conversation had been overheard. As Molly guiltily pulled his head up, and Caleb leaned away, until just their shoulders were brushing. Then Beau suddenly broke off her reading.

“Olav came in while Fenrys was locked up for the full moon. And now Fenrys’s werewolf form is in the middle of licking Olav’s clammy vampire dick.” Beau stated, completely devoid of either embarrassment, or any kind of erotic interest.

The same couldn’t be said of Jester, who was noticeably pink, and added “Olav called Fenrys good doggie,” in a breathy voice that was almost a moan.

“Gods, I don’t know why I keep askin’,” Fjord complained, “it’s just awful every time.”

“It’s a pretty good image actually,” Beau commented with surprising positivity. “I’d be down to fuck a werewolf...a girl werewolf...it might be fun to eat out someone that can bite you...”

“Ok,” Fjord protested, voice cracking comically, “I do not need to know about whatever spicy action turns you on. So can we stop please?”

“Don’t kink shame!” Molly hollered over his shoulder, “pet play is an amazing and arousing experience.”

“You too Molls—“ the half orc complained, “I know more about your fantasies than I ever cared to.”

“Oh fuck you,” Molly shot back with a smirk. “Beau, keep reading, I wanna hear about Fenrys playing good dog.”

“You’re so fucking weird.“ Beau growled resentfully.


	33. What’s On the Table Then?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Once, I was hopeful. Thought we were one. Life, less than perfect, finally begun. But, now I wonder. Are we undone?_
> 
> _When I am crazier than you. I'm crazier than you, and nothing up til now has proved me wrong. I'm crazier than you. That's just the overview, so get on board or simply move along._
> 
> [Crazier Than You](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Ruy1eogw2rQ), by Krysta Rodríguez and Wesley Taylor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, someone made an Art™ 
> 
> [Art™](https://www.instagram.com/mformultiverse/p/BvigUIUFySU/?utm_source=ig_share_sheet&igshid=fqohlr7mooyp)
> 
> I think it is a very good. And if anyone else wants to make more Arts™ I will probably post them with the chapters too, because I like them.

“What do you want?” Molly asked offhandedly, glancing briefly at Caleb’s face.

They were sitting shoulder to shoulder on a convenient log, at the edge of Caleb’s Tiny Hut, keeping a halfhearted watch. Caleb was fiddling with Molly’s hand in his own, examining the tattoos, and viciously sharp nails. Molly was stargazing. Neither were paying more than a passing attention to the wilds around them.

“What do you mean?” Caleb asked cautiously, turning Molly’s hand over to trace the creases across the tiefling’s palm.

“This.” Molly said, squeezing his hand meaningfully around Caleb’s. “What do you want from _this_...”

“I—“ Caleb faltered, “I don’t need anything...”

“But what do you _want_?” Molly carefully pressed.

“I don’t...I don’t know?” Caleb said, as if it were a question.

Molly laughed at Caleb’s vaguely confused answer.

“What we did before...it meant something.” The tiefling tried to explain, “but we’ve established that you and I thought it meant different things...” he couldn’t help smiling at his own selfish obliviousness, as he finished quietly, “it meant more to me than it did to you.”

“It meant—I did—“ Caleb stammered, before backtracking and forcing himself to speak in an embarrassed mumble. “It meant something to me. But I...didn’t let it...”

“So now,” Molly prompted, “what do you want?”

“I like...I like what we...did before...” Caleb muttered, turning a very nice shade of pink, and clearing his throat after the confession as if to get rid of it.

“You want to keep that?” The tiefling cautiously prodded. “I was doing that because I wouldn’t say how I felt.”

“And I am sorry for that...”

“Don’t apologize. It was my choice...But I’m not gonna silence myself like that again.” Molly defensively asserted, “it was stupid, and misleading, and it made us both confused about what the sex meant.”

“Nien—no—I know how you feel—I just—“ Caleb cut himself off, and chewed his lower lip. Finally he admitted in a whisper, “I want to keep what it—what you have told me you...feel. But I did like the rest of it, even if I didn’t understand it.”

“What parts specifically,” Molly asked, because it was important to know...and because it would be so amusing to watch Caleb articulate the dirty details.

And the wizard didn’t disappoint. He flushed darker, and choked on a laugh, glancing shyly away, “the—the kissing...and holding hands...shopping together. It was... _gut_...”

“Anything else?” Molly purred, smug and self satisfied, already knowing the answer.

“The...the sex...” Caleb mumbled cautiously, as if it were a swearword someone would punish him for, like a guilty child saying ‘damn’ for the first time.

“You liked me getting creative?” Molly snickered.

“Ja.“ Caleb said defensively. “I mean, of course I liked it...”

The tiefling cackled at Caleb’s guilty indignation. It was adorable. Caleb was adorable. And Molly couldn’t help tackling the wizard into a wildly impulsive kiss, that bruised both their lips, making their teeth connect in the wrong way, and Molly tasted a shot of copper across his tongue.

“Sorry!” Molly giggled, still too punch drunk to do anything but laugh breathlessly, “sorry, love! Wasn’t minding the teeth!”

“You are as bad as Frumpkin.” Caleb said with blisteringly dry humor, fingering the torn skin of his lip.

“I really am sorry though,” Molly apologized with more seriousness.

“You are a very ridiculous man, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

“Aw, but you love it though...”

<><><>

Nott had meant to relieve Caleb’s watch early, and give her boy a longer sleep.

But as she roused herself to sit up, she was interrupted by the sound of Molly’s voice. She pricked her ears up, freezing in her movements, as she put together the situation.

Molly and Caleb were sitting close on a log at the edge of the bubble...uncomfortably close really...And turned into each other. Caleb had his head ducked down, and he looked...flushed. She’d never seen him look embarrassed like that. The tiefling man was smiling gently, eyes searching Caleb’s face with a warmth in them that went beyond the natural heat of his blood red gaze.

“Can you...” Caleb mumbled, picking at his coat cuff, “could we...try again?”

For a moment Molly’s eyes flashed with a burning triumph. Then Molly reached to cup Caleb’s face, turning it up, until they were straightforward with each other.

And then the tiefling leaned forward, and they were kissing...

Oh. Oh dear. Nott shouldn’t be watching this. It was weird, definitely weird, and in fact creepy. This was not her business.

Molly was being surprisingly gentle, but it was Caleb’s face that kept her attention. Caleb, tilting into the kiss as if he liked it. Caleb, gasping as if it was the first free breath he’d drawn in days. Caleb, looking so unabashedly happy Nott wanted to cry. She’d never seen her boy look as unchained as that.

This was pretty serious wasn’t it...

With extreme care, Nott eased herself back down into a curled up ball. Clearly Caleb wouldn’t be complaining about his watch, and it really wasn’t something she could interrupt. She had no intention of going back to sleep though. This was a new development, and she needed to take time with it, evaluate the circumstances. Someone had to think long and carefully about what this would mean. She and Caleb definitely needed to talk, and she would have to know what she wanted to say...

<><><>

“Gods, I feel like a rose someone took a piss on,” Molly complained dramatically.

Caleb could see the resemblance. The tiefling was covered from head to foot in leftover slime from their fight, the viscous weight making his coat hang heavy and wet, slapping when he moved.

“A fucking rose,” Beau bitched, “that’s real humble Tealeaf.”

The monk woman was covered in the same slime, but against her dark skin it looked oily. Like someone that had gone out tanning. The fact that she was wearing a crop top, and baggy pants only made her look even more like a teenage beach enthusiast.

“I’m a special snowflake, and you know it,” Molly retorted playfully, watching the slime string out in wet shining threads when he touched his fingertips together.

“I think we’re all roses that got pissed on,” Fjord said fairly, slicking his gooey hair back out of his eyes.

“You guys look like someone dumped a whole bunch of lube on you!” Jester cackled with prankish joy, turning around on the drivers seat to speak to them. Her divided attention made their journey through the city street uncomfortably erratic...

“I could fist somebody,” Molly agreed, forming a slimy ball with his hand.

Fjord and Caleb both choked. Although the half orc probably had a different reason, since sexual topics in general made him flustered. Caleb was flustered because it was dangerously easy to picture Molly’s words.

“Look how much shit I’ve got in my fucking pants,” Beau said, yanking off one boot, so that she could un-sinch the bottom of her pant leg.

A small avalanche of viscous goo slid out of her baggy clothing, without the ties holding it closed. Everyone made a noise of sympathy. “Both sides,” Beau said, undoing the other boot in the same way.

“Ewwww, you’re getting the cart all gooey!” Jester complained, tucking her skirt safely out of the way with a clever scoop of her tail.

“I don’t care what the rest of you motherfuckers are going to do, but I’m going to find somewhere to have a damn bath.” Molly declared.

“Yeah, I think I’m with ya,” Fjord said wrinkling his nose, and watching the glisten of slime on his arm.

“I’m hungry though.” Jester said with a pout.

“Maybe the clean people can find somewhere to eat?” Nott suggested hopefully, saliva gathering on her chin at the mention of food.

Caleb reached over to scrub her chin with his sleeve.

“Yeah!” Jester gushed, “you dirty people wash, and we’ll go out to eat.”

Glancing between Fjord and Molly, Beau declared “I’m not sharing a bath with you guys.”

“Buy your own then,” Molly teased.

“Maybe I will!”

“Personally, I don’t give a fuck who see’s my dick.” Molly declared proudly.

“This I can attest...” the long suffering Fjord muttered.

“And I don’t care who else’s dirty bits I see,” Molly continued, completely unabashed. “So a community bath is fine with me.”

Jester was once again twisting in her seat to say something to the same effect, but Caleb didn't hear her. Because Molly’s lavender tail stealthy snaked around Nott’s body, to loop around Caleb’s wrist. The wizard glanced at it, and then at the teifling. Molly’s eyes were hard with determination, and his tail tugged meaningfully on Caleb’s wrist.

Clearly the teifling meant “come too.”

Giving the tiniest nod he could manage, Caleb lightly closed his fingers around Molly’s tail, trying not to stimulate it. The wizard’s grip drew a sensitized hiss anyway, and the tiefling’s shoulders turned stiff.

Molly’s tail really was sensitive...

<><><>

“What’s that, like, two minutes?” Fjord asked.

“Two. And thirty eight seconds,” Caleb declared with clocklike accuracy, frowning worriedly.

“Done!” Molly declared breathlessly, emerging from the water, skin bright purple from the effort of holding his breath.

“Two minutes, forty three seconds.” Caleb stated.

“ _Fuck_ —“ Molly swore, “I’ve held out three minutes giving head before.”

“Again, Molly, ‘personal information’,” Fjord complained tiredly, obviously without any hope of making a difference.

“Oh poo darling, no one cares.”

“No, I just think it’s you,” the half orc muttered, dunking his soapy head underwater.

Without the girls around, Fjord was behaving much more confidently, allowing himself to move freely without any effort to cover himself. Caleb had sunk into the water as quickly as possible, and was now keeping himself stubbornly submerged to obscure everything uncomfortable. Molly was...well...shameless nudity was just Molly’s style regardless...

Floating to the side of the pool, Molly propped his arms on the sides. Unfortunately the support allowed him to let the rest of his body float free, the entire expanse lavender skin bobbing to the surface for display, including his cock. Caleb flushed, and tried not to look.

And much to Caleb’s shame, he was having a very difficult time trying. In spite of _years_ of complete abstinence, and carefully maintained lack of sexual desires, Caleb was struggling to contain this unfortunate little attraction. The wizard hadn’t felt so tempted by another person’s body since he was a teenager, trying to get a peek beneath the girl’s skirts, or down their blouses, interested in anything that seemed like obscured and sacred skin.  

For one, Molly made himself difficult to ignore. And Caleb’s own attraction made up for the rest of it. So it was truly only superhuman effort, keeping him from showing interest in Molly’s body. Or at least...from making his interest completely obvious...because he couldn’t actually stop looking completely.

“I am so glad I suggested this.” Molly sighed contentedly, kicking little splashes across the water’s surface with his toes.

“It was a good idea...” Caleb mumbled halfheartedly. Because the same reasons were making him want to agree, and disagree at the same time, drawn to Molly’s nakedness, and uncomfortable with his own interest in it.

He couldn’t help a sidelong glance at Molly’s body, as he muttered his agreement. Then his eyes were arrested.

Because of Molly’s vivid color, it was easy to trace the tiefling’s general form under the water...but it was a specific detail that commanded Caleb’s attention. The faint outline of Molly’s tail, slicing lazy figure eights in the water.

“I wonder what Beau’s doing, all by herself with no one sexy to admire...” Molly mused, closing his eyes, and leaning his head back against the tiles at the edge of the bath.

Cautiously, Caleb reached out and wrapped careful fingers around the spade of Molly’s tail. Drawing it closer, and rubbing his fingers in a circle around the metallic piercing through it’s center.

“Fuck—“ Molly swore, voice tangled with a choked up moan, as he jerked hard and slipped forward into the water.

The violent reaction made Caleb hastily release the tail, but he couldn’t draw his hand away, because the appendage immediately chased his hand and wrapped chokingly tight around his forearm. Startled, Fjord glanced up from his rinsing, hands frozen in his hair.

“What th’hell—“

“He slipped.” Caleb said, completely straight faced in his desperation.

“—Caleb—“ Molly choked, coming back to the surface, violet, and choking on water in his throat. “I mean fucking hell—“

“Get your breath back.” Caleb interrupted firmly, slapping Molly’s back so hard the teifling couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

Fjord, apparently satisfied with the explanation, grabbed a rag and wrapped it around a bar of soap to scrub himself. And Caleb didn’t know where the boldness came from, but Fjord’s distraction was somehow enough. As he watched Fjord’s eyes break away, and toyed with Molly’s piercing again.

Already choking on water, Molly choked on sensation. Convulsively he reached out to grip Caleb’s arm, clinging to the wizard’s wrist, as he speechlessly searched Caleb’s face. He looked round eyed and completely flabbergasted, eyes desperate with half protests, and half encouragements. Trying not to draw more attention than they already had, Caleb settled for stroking his fingers gently over the spade, watching as Molly shuddered even from that, and bit his lip to keep quiet.

Someone knocking outside the door interrupted their activities.

“Gentlemen,” a woman’s voice with a lilting accent said, “you clothes have been washed, and are ready to be worn.”

“Thank you,” Fjord called out, unconsciously ducking down to obscure himself in the water, even though the woman was outside the door.

“I was also told,” the woman continued apologetically, “by your...charming female friend...that she wishes you to join her. Since she has finished with her own bath.”

“Good to know,” the half orc said with a grin.

“She used very strong language sir,” the woman finished meekly.

“Yeah, tell her we’ll be out’n just a sec.” Fjord called through the door.

“Understood sir...”

Noisily, shedding water from his flanks as he rose, Fjord clambered half way out of the bath, before he noticed Caleb and Molly still sitting down. Caleb because he was fixated on Molly now, and had no intention of leaving the bath, or letting go of the tiefling’s tail. Molly was still for reasons Caleb could guess at well enough, judging by his heavy breathing, twitching tail, and viselike grip on Caleb’s arm.

“Aren’t you two gettin’ out?” Fjord asked blankly.

Suddenly startling into movement, Molly ducked under the water, disappearing without bubbles. Unwilling to push the tiefling, or make him choke underwater, Caleb stilled his hand.

“I guess not,” he said, with as much composure as he could. “He wanted me to time him again.”

The lie would have fallen flat, if Molly did anything but hold his breath underwater. Thankfully the tiefling stayed down, and Fjord, after a moment’s confusion only shrugged.

“Suit y’selves...” the half orc drawled carelessly, “we’ll eat without ya, if you take too long.”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb said carefully. “Sounds good...”

<><><>

The door had no sooner closed on Fjord’s back, then Caleb gave a summoning tug around the tiefling’s tail.

Molly surged to the surface, desperate and in a hurry. As he gasped for air, and straddled Caleb’s lap at the same time, gripping the wizard’s face and angling in for a kiss without ceremony. His movements were so fierce Caleb couldn’t breathe with it, completely flattened back against the side of the pool, and limply allowing Molly to move however he wanted.

Oh...

Well, this was fine, he supposed...

Their first kiss out at the edge of town, taken under the cover of darkness and the Nien’s sleeping obliviousness, had been an aching thing. Something that came too late, after too much starvation before. Molly had sealed a hollow place behind Caleb’s ribs with it. 

This kiss, was a scorching thing. It endlessly intrigued Caleb, faithfully recording on the pages of a perfect memory just how many different ways Molly could express himself with a kiss, and the meaning was totally different every time. This was something that Caleb could only call hungry. A touch with tongue, and teeth, and tyranny in it, setting Caleb’s nerves on edge. Calling for something darker, deeper, more desperate, as his half hard length of arousal beneath the water only took more interest. 

“You motherfucker,” Molly gasped, jerking away and holding Caleb’s face in both hands. “You absolutely glorious bastard—“ and he dived back in for a deeper kiss.

“Not to much?” Caleb tried to question, still half lost in the kiss even while he talked.

“Darling,” Molly growled, sounding almost offended at Caleb’s timidity. “You are the worst...and it’s _amazing._ ”

“How does that feel for you?” The wizard asked, “the tail...”

Chuckling darkly, Molly’s hand plunged beneath the water, and he unceremoniously wrapped it around Caleb’s half hard cock. The stroke of Molly’s hand made Caleb jump, stifling a groan as it sent ribbons of pleasure up into his stomach. How in the nine hells could something like that feel so good? A heady powerful rush of heat, consuming his hips like fire, and leaving him harder than he’d been a second ago.

_Gottverdammt_...he’d actually been missing this, hadn’t he?

“It feels just about like that.” Molly growled.

“You have something that sensitive,” Caleb choked, “where anything could touch it?”

“It’s there to make me horny,” Molly purred with a velvet grin in his voice, “makes me wanna breed.”

“Like you need any help with that,” Caleb said, laughing scornfully.

“Oh it definitely helps,” the tiefling rumbled dangerously, lustfully kissing Caleb’s neck and grinding on the wizard’s leg beneath the water.

“You are certainly in a mood,” Caleb stammered, almost overwhelmed in the face of Molly’s predatory desire, hesitant to put his hands anywhere.

“Yeah,” Molly snapped impatiently, “and you started this, so you’d better find a way to fuck me till I’m screaming.”

That statement, so delightfully Molly: shameless, needy, demanding, sent hot blooded desire through Caleb’s blood. Finding Molly’s face, Caleb dragged the tiefling’s chin up into another messy battle of lips like the last one. The tiefling was purring deep in the back of his throat, occasionally riding Caleb’s leg, as his tail whipped and sent arcing splashes when it broke the surface.

It was that slap of Molly’s tail against the water, that drew Caleb’s attention to it again. Reaching out, he scooped it into his hand. Molly growled approvingly, arching his back to grind more firmly on Caleb’s leg, eyes heavy lidded with arousal.

“Is it all sensitive?” Caleb asked, holding the spade tip above water so they could both look at it. “Or just the end?”

“Not really along the shaft,” Molly explained, an edge of impatience still lingering in his voice, “but by gods is the base sensitive.”

He reached to capture one of Caleb’s hands, guiding it around, finding the base of his tail on the underside, just above his ass where the tail joined his body.

“Right there,” he hissed, letting Caleb’s fingers brush the skin, “and around the peircing, are the hot spots.”

For a moment Caleb circled aimlessly, guessing by Molly’s stiff posture that the tiefling expected to be stimulated. But Caleb only lightly stroked, feeling Molly shiver with pleasant sensation that wasn’t nearly enough. It was sort of...powerful. A nice kind of power, completely different than the old conquest and violent dictatorship that Trent had groomed in him, or the obsessive drive of power by knowlege. The one was an iron fist to choke the world with, the other a craving to erase his sins; but this, was a poised position of control, like a master with all the strings. 

Leaning back, the wizard locked eyes with Molly. As Caleb pulled the spade tip in, and gently kissed it. Molly went stiff, hissing appreciatively, and Caleb felt the tiefling’s cock twitch against his leg. Whatever Caleb’s soft press of lips was doing, seemed to be just enough to turn Molly on and wind him up, without giving him anything more than need to work with. The tiefling was actually starting to whimper, high pitched and desperate, bucking emptily in Caleb’s lap.

Then Caleb darted his tongue out, taking infinite care to only touch Molly’s piercing, and nudge it for half a second.

Molly groaned sharply at the suggestion in Caleb’s movement, his entire body rocking forward into Caleb’s. “Fuck—“ he keened desperately “fuck—Caleb please—“

Listening to Molly _beg_...was another surge of that same controlled power. Stronger than before, and more heated. Unlocking a dark corner of authority, and calculated restraint, that made Caleb’s stomach ache with a Need that went beyond mere animal arousal. 

Seizing Molly’s face, Caleb dragged Molly’s head to attention, the fingers digging into the tiefling’s cheeks clearly signifying “watch me.” Instantly Molly stiffened, obediently freezing. As Caleb leaned his head forward, and laid a broad stroke of his tongue across Molly’s tail, pressing lovingly into the piercing as he passed over it. Molly moaned, full and throaty, his cock jerking hard against Caleb’s leg. For a moment the tiefling’s eyes fluttered, heavy with arousal, and he forced them open with a visible effort.

“More?” Caleb asked, tilting his head to the side with Molly’s tailtip held daintily in his fingers like a wineglass.

“Gods you fucking tease—“ Molly complained uselessly, squirming in Caleb’s lap.

“How does it feel?”

“Feels like you’re lighting my fucking dick on fire,” Molly snarled, impatient and bitchy, “I’m so fucking horny—“

Pressing the tail tip completely into his mouth, Caleb aggressively sucked down, massaging over the underside with his tongue. The tiefling shattered, writhing in Caleb’s lap, a high pitched, sinfully feminine “ah” breaking from his mouth. And a debauched stream of mewls, and sensitized cries continuing to fall, as Caleb skillfully sucked and licked, lavishing attentive stimulation on Molly’s twitching tail.

Caleb watched it all with a giddy rush of amazement. Amazement, and a flood of smug satisfaction that made him grin around Molly’s tail. Like a painter gazing in self satisfied triumph on their work. This was _his_ doing. Molly was moaning because of him, helpless in his lap, and shuddering over his pleasure because Caleb had started this. He’d started this, and now Molly was twitching with breathless cries that broadcasted his sensitivity.

And it wouldn’t do to let this thing that Caleb had begun finish too quickly. 

“Molly—“

When Caleb plucked the spade from his mouth, Molly jerked hard, venting a drawn whine of sharp disappointment as his sensation was stolen from him. It made Caleb grin, sharp and possessive. A heady pulse of controlling, confident, satisfaction, sure of himself and sure of Molly.

“I have an idea,” the wizard murmured dangerously.

Pulling the tiefling forward, flush and chest to chest, Caleb murmured, “put your hands on my shoulders.” Obedient, Molly gripped painfully tight around Caleb’s torso, practically clinging to the wizard for support.

“Keep them there.” Caleb breathed in the tiefling’s ear, reaching down at the same time to find the sensitive base of Molly’s tail, and pressing on it. The stimulation made Molly groan, and Caleb could feel the tiefling’s cock pulsing against his stomach, as he continued speaking, voice underscored by the stroke of his hand and the erotic whimpers dropping from Molly’s mouth.

“If you ever move your hands, to touch yourself, or to touch me, I’m going to stop. _Ja_? Understand?”

“Yesss.” Molly hissed.

“ _Gut_.” Caleb praised, pausing to drop a fleeting kiss against Molly’s shoulder. Then he brought his head back up to whisper in Molly’s ear, “now come from your tail.”

Molly nodded eagerly against Caleb’s shoulder, his hands clenching where they were anchored to Caleb’s body. Peppering little kisses to Molly’s neck, Caleb fingered the base of the tiefling’s tail, listening as Molly made music with his voice. A litany of hums, and wordless pleas, and gasps. As the tiefling twitched, and flinched in Caleb’s lap, hands trembling, shoulders unsteady in their breathing.

With a knowing smile that nobody saw, Caleb tilted his head, abandoning Molly’s neck, and slipping the tiefling’s tail back into his mouth. Savoring the sensation of it, the flexible give of Molly’s spade shaped tail tip, the metallic bite of the piercing, the arousal of pleasuring with everything he had. Enduring the stimulation made Molly whimper, responsive and imperfect, jerking to get away and closer at the same time.

The shape of the spade felt a little like candy, if warmer and more fleshy, but Caleb embraced the movements. As he sucked down with a slick wet sound, running his tongue across the flat surfaces, and stenciled out the edges. Still pretending to suck a candy, Caleb pulled back, letting the tail forcefully suction from his mouth, and Molly _sobbed_ against Caleb’s neck.

“You really do sound like a slut when I suck on this,” Caleb mused thoughtfully, to make Molly listen instead of feel.  

He rolled the gold piercing under his thumb, and Molly keened in his lap. All his bravado, and charm, and constant flashy showmanship, devolving into sensitized pleasure he couldn’t hope to hide. As he panted agaisnt Caleb’s neck, and the hands around Caleb’s shoulders trembled with shaken need. 

“Does it really feel that good?” The wizard asked.

“Caleb—“ Molly whined, protests vague but petty. “Fuck yes it feels that good. Gods, darling—“

Caleb sucked the tail back into his mouth before Molly could say anymore. Molly’s gasp and whimper of delerious pleasure said more than enough. As Caleb rolled the gold beaded piercing under the tip of his tongue, enjoying the way Molly’s hips jerked. The wizard rubbed a long deep stroke to Molly’s flesh at the base of his tail, and felt the stiffened prod of Molly’s fully engorged erection. Directing Molly’s hips closer and more widely straddled, Caleb angled his own hips into moving, allowing his cock to brush with Molly’s, and Molly choked on his tongue.

The tiefling was rapidly unraveling into a twitching mess. The slightest shift of Caleb’s tongue, or the faintest brush of Caleb’s fingers, made Mollymauk moan. His cock was twitching sensitively, excited and eager, doubtlessly leaking slick pleasure fluids into the bathwater. And obediently his hands remained fixed on Caleb’s shoulders, kneading their restless energy and unchanneled desire into the wizard’s skin.

Caleb could mark the climax approaching. As he tugged Molly’s piercing between his teeth, and undulated his tongue right at the base of the spade. Everything falling apart, as Molly’s noises devolved from sensuous moans to high pitched animal whimpers. The way Molly’s hips rolled, his thighs around Caleb’s trembled, and his tail jerked uselessly, all broadcasting Molly’s sensitivitiy.

The wizard smiled at it all, and sucked down forcefully around Molly’s tail, with nothing but demanding pressure.

Molly _wailed_ into Caleb’s neck, as his body rocked forward sharp and clumsy, tail curling up reflexively against Caleb’s hold. And Caleb felt the ropes of Molly’s ejaculate release against between them in the water. The tremors of Molly’s pleasure, shivered up his tail, twitching repeatedly in Caleb’s mouth. Caleb moaned with it, licking eagerly at Molly’s tail as it flicked on his tongue.

And the wizard kept going, sucking around Molly’s tail, as Molly sobbed with pleasure. Coiled stiff with sensation, and shaking harder as the driving force of Caleb’s mouth became more and more overwhelming. His cock releasing full and satisfied, driven past the edge by the receptivity of his tail, commanding Molly to spill himself.

Satisfied at last, Caleb released Molly’s tail, watching it flop nervelessly into the water. Breathing heavily, Molly slumped bonelessly into Caleb’s body, still whimpering and twitching through the after shocks. Gentle and affectionate, Caleb let the tiefling rest, whispering half formed Zemnian in Molly’s ear.

“Holy fuck...” Molly rasped, voice heavy with the afterglow.

“You have a very pretty tail...” Caleb whispered appreciatively.

“Gods darling,” Molly hissed, “that was so good.” 

“I missed you,” Caleb confessed, flushing dark with embarrassment, as the power faded away and he found himself to be the same shrinkingly affectionate wizard he’d been before.

“You missed me?” Molly repeated with a blissed out smile of giddy delight.

“Ja. Hearing you...make those pretty noises...”

“You missed hearing me moan like a bitch when we fuck?”

“I—I suppose...” Caleb admitted confusedly, “that is—is not how I would say it but—“

“But it’s what you meant, sweetie.”

“I just—“ Caleb stammered, before correcting himself, and continuing in a firm voice, “I like making you feel good.”

“Well you certainly succeeded,” Molly declared emphatically, tail coiling at just the memory, “I’m never gonna touch my tail in the same way again...holy shit...”

“ _Danke_.”

“Really,” Molly said, tipping back to look at Caleb’s face, “words don’t do it.”

“That is fine,” Caleb waved off dismissively. “I enjoyed it...so...”

Molly suddenly smirked devilishly and purred, “I could turn the tables on ya, instead.”

“Oh...”

“I still haven’t beaten my record,” Molly declared, licking his lips obscenely, “maybe this time I’ll get it.”

“ _Nien_! Mollymauk—“

But Molly had already drawn a huge breath, and dipped beneath the water. Drawing a conflicted moan from Caleb’s throat, as he felt boiling warm lips part open around him, and at the same time a tiny stream of bubbles rose to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I'm not impulsive._   
>  _(And yet I truly love you)._   
>  _I'm not deranged._   
>  _(I'd never ask that of you)._   
>  _But in this moment, I feel I've changed._
> 
> _I'm crazier than you! I'm crazier than you. And now I'll prove to you exactly how, I'm crazier than you. I'll do what you can do. From here on in, I give my solemn vow._
> 
> Crazier Than You, by Krysta Rodríguez and Wesley Taylor.


	34. Nott’s Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I was running down the road, the fear was all I knew, I was looking for a soul that’s real, then I ran into you. And that cherry blossom tree was a gateway to the sun. And friendship, once it’s won. It’s won. It’s one._
> 
> [Cedarwood Road](https://youtu.be/GBVWg7XFZA8), by U2

A part of Caleb had been hoping this wouldn’t happen...The other half knew that it was only dumb luck that had kept it so long in coming. As he slithered around the edge of the door, carefully easing it closed behind him, he took stock of the room. Everything was black and still, everything exactly as he expected to find it. He only just had time to realize something was missing, before Nott’s voice made him realize the gap.

“Hey Caleb.”

He hadn’t been able to hear her snoring...

“ _Hallo_... _schwesterchen_...” Caleb mumbled, awkwardly huddling with his back against the door, as if there were a bear trap waiting to spring further inside the room.

“Just got back?”

“I did.”

“It’s pretty late.”

“It is.”

“Fjord came back an hour ago...”

“ _Ja_...”

Silence held the room, as Caleb lingered by the door. He could see Nott’s outline now, as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the interior. She was sitting straight-backed and cross legged on the bed, huddled under a blanket, with her crossbow in her lap. For a long moment indecision held them both in place, as Nott peered at him from under the ragged fringe of hair in her face, and Caleb chewed on his lower lip.

“Could we...talk about it?” Nott faltered.

“ _Ja_...” Caleb agreed, jerky and hesitant. “ _Ja_ , we can talk...”

Shuffling forward, Caleb assumed a similar cross legged position on the opposite end of the bed, peering through the darkness at the goblin’s shadowy form.

“I feel bad about bringin’ it up...” Nott said apologetically. “Invadin’ your privacy and everything...”

“ _Nien_ , that is—I would tell you anything Nott,” Caleb said. He hadn’t been strictly keeping his word lately, but that didn’t alter the underlying truth of the statement. “You know everything about me.”

“I just wanna make sure that...you know...that you’re sure...”

They both knew what she wasn’t saying.

“Are you sure?” She pressed more firmly. “About...him?”

For a long moment Caleb chewed on his words, but the response, when it came to his lips, was simple. “I am.”

“You’re, together. Like, _Together_ , together...”

“ _Ja_.” He bit out, short and clumsy, pealing his tongue away from the roof of his mouth.

“Are you...” Nott began, and even without seeing her face, Caleb could hear the embarrassment in her voice. “Sleeping...together?”

Caleb flushed deeply enough to feel like his face was on fire, and Nott could see it. Although...of course she would see it. She had catlike affinity for the dark. It was just the blindness of his own human eyes, that made the darkness feel more sheltering than it was.

The blush, and the way he dropped his head to hide his face behind his hands, was conformation enough.

“Is it good?” Nott probed suspiciously. “You like it?”

“I mean of course I—” Caleb cut himself off, wondering if it was physically possible to turn any redder than he knew he must be. Mentally he kicked himself, and settled for a guarded, “why do you want to know?”

“I just wanna make sure you’re safe!” Nott stammered, confused and defensive.

“You think he is dangerous or something?” Caleb growled, pricked by a creeping sense of defensive anger on Molly’s behalf. “That he is going to hurt me, or that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“No! No, of course that’s not what I meant!” Nott squeaked, “I don’t think anything like that.”

“Then what?”

“I just,” Nott began, voice flawed with maternal emotion, “you’re my boy...”

The pure kindness in her voice made him soften, immediately regretting his suspicions. Of course she would never make such groundless accusations, especially against her friends. All this, which he had mistaken as some misguided attempt to put him on his guard against Mollymauk, was nothing more than her own imperfect attempt to convey her care for him.

“I just want you to be safe and happy.” The goblin girl admitted earnestly. “I want the best for you...because you...deserve someone really nice...”

“That is... _danke_ Nott,” Caleb murmured gently, smiling across the darkness at Nott’s general shape.

“Is he nice?

“Of course he is nice.”

“You like him?”

Shakily Caleb forced himself to nod, ducking his head to look at his hands in his lap.

“Do you...” Nott whispered, so carefully it sounded like she was speaking at the bedside of a dying man. “Do you love him?”

To Nott he could say it. To his first and dearest friend, this little sister he couldn’t possibly deserve, had never expected to meet. It was easier. Easier with Nott, easier with a dark room. Easier with no one to hear.

“ _Ja_...” he hissed, “I think I do.”

The words hung on the air like a struck bell, ringing in the silence. Caleb shrank into himself, overburdened by a simultaneous feeling of panic and relief.

“Well,” Nott said slowly, “that’s it then.”

He nodded, forcing himself to breathe after the confession.

“I’m satisfied.” The tiny goblin declared. Then her voice suddenly shifted, turning dangerous. “But if he ever does anythin’ to hurt you again...”

Caleb laughed.

“The next time he makes you cry, I’m gonna cut him a new mouth,” and she made a slicing motion as if slitting her throat.

“ _Danke_ Nott,” Caleb said, unsuccessfully attempting to scrub a smile off his face. “You are very kind to me.”

“I’m serious.”

“ _Ja, ja_...”

“He’d better watch out.”

Nott fell silent, with her arms crossed stubbornly before her, and a fierce glint in her eye. Caleb shrinkingly examined her face, and wondered for the thousandth time how he could deserve such a selfless friend. He had nothing to give her, might never find a way to give her recompense, and still she didn’t care.

“Come to bed...maybe?” Caleb awkwardly asked.

And he could only manage the slightest shift of his arms, in a faint request for cuddles. But Nott didn’t need anything clearer. She knew all the signs, and mannerisms, and stunted gestures he couldn’t fully commit to. So the goblin girl scrabbled across the bed, climbing into his lap like an extremely heavy cat, and snuggled in.

<><><>

“Mollymauk—“

“Jesus fucking tits on a stick—“ Molly swore, tripping with one foot half way shoved into his trousers, and falling ass first to the floor.

Nott, standing on his bed with her hands on her hips, looked less than impressed.

“How the fuck did’ya get in here?!?” Molly demanded incredulously.

“Put some pants on,” Nott griped, wrinkling her nose in distaste, as she purposefully glanced away from his grounded form.

“Gods,” Molly complained, wiggling his ass on the floor to pull his half donned breeches all the way up, and lacing the top over his tail, “you just about scared last night’s ale _right_ out of me—”

“I have somethin’ to say.” Nott interrupted him severely.

One look at her determined face, made Molly’s teasing complaints drop away. It felt strangely guilty. As if he were about to be scolded by an irate mother, for putting his clever fingers in the cookie jar, without her express permission.

“Caleb.” She snapped out, as if that one word explained his guilt.

“Caleb.” Molly agreed, as if he knew exactly what that one word meant.

“He’s close to you.” Nott continued sharply. “Sleepin’ together and stuff.”

“Well, if you want to know—“

“I _don’t_ want any details!” The goblin girl cut him off, her eyes flashing.

Molly, appropriately silenced, sat meekly on the floor.

“I just want to say,” Nott said fiercely, visibly brisling with aggression, “that if you ever hurt him, I will cut your insides out and hang you from your own entrails.”

“Consider me duly warned...”

“One false move!” She snarled. “I slit your throat.”

“Trust me,” Molly growled, tail whipping viciously, “I’d do the job for you.”

For a moment that caught Nott off guard. As her eyes widened with surprise, and the intimidating show slipped. She looked almost upset, unsure how to react, on the edge of protesting such dreadful measures. Then she gathered herself back together.

“Well that’s all then.” She snipped, squaring her shoulders and standing as tall as she could. (It wasn’t extremely tall). “We understand each other.”

“I guess we do.”

“Then I’m going to leave,” Nott jumped off the bed.

“As long as we’re talking about ground rules, you can’t just stealth into my bedroom any time your sneaky little heart desires—“ Molly started to say.

Nott loudly slammed the door on the way out, without stopping to apologize, or listen to his irritation.

Molly grinned, and reached for his shirt.


	35. Rocks Against the Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On my knees, all my life I’ve been sold a chase._   
>  _Hustling hope for dollars, try cope a day (a day)._
> 
> _'Cause I'm on top, I'm on top, I'm on top of the world! See me out, see me out with the diamonds and pearls. I'm on top, I'm on top, I'm on top of the world. They can talk, they can talk, but I got the good word!_
> 
> [Top Of the World](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2JqoGMgHLqw), by Kimbra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! 
> 
> For: Sensations of panic attack, possibly upsetting imagery, and post-traumatic flashback that includes implied sexual assault. 
> 
> Please be aware of your safety, my children ♥️

Molly was dangerously easy to get addicted to.

And this? These fragile passing moments, these stolen glimpses at bliss. These brief moments taken alone, concealed in some inn away from the rest of the Nien, when it was like two pieces joining, like two forces colliding. They’d stolen many such moments, but both of them always wanted more. Searching for the next moment of privacy, the next excuse to find each other, the next shelter that couldn’t come soon enough.

When it was just Mollymauk and Caleb. When Molly was naked, and Caleb was hungry.

Caleb was addicted to it.

There were different forms of course. There were often moments when Molly was in control of it. When he was aware of his own allure: wielded it with sure hands, and sexuality was another blade. A sharper, and a keener edge of Lust and Desire, that could carve to the center of flesh and bone. Times when Molly was undeniably attractive, and that was the danger.

Still other moments there were, when the tiefling was inviting. When it was all gentle words and soft caresses. Comfort, and intimacy, and sweet indignities committed in the dark. It was worship, not warfare, and Molly was eager to give and receive everything.

And then there were times like this, when Molly wasn’t in control like he thought he was; when he pursued one thing, and Caleb designed on something entirely different. When the wizard had a plan, and no pleasure, no touch, no inviting word could ever divert him from it.

Mollymauk Tealeaf was in danger, and he was delightfully, woefully, arousingly, misinformed.

The taste of the tiefling’s mocking mouth was pleasant too. Somehow getting caught and beguiled in a dance with clever lips that outdid him. Molly was a good kisser, agile, liquid, and erotic. So even though it wasn’t enough to truly distract Caleb from what he wanted, it was still an arousing moment along the journey.

“I hope you’re planning to fuck me in the next year or so, darling...” Molly complained through the kiss, though it was somewhat muffled, and he couldn’t conjure up real discontent.

He was already naked, and pressed up so close to Caleb as they kissed, that one or two scant layers of fabric were the only things between their cocks brushing together. The tiefling couldn’t really complain about anything. Not with Caleb’s tongue twining with of Molly’s own forked tongue, and the exposure of being the only one naked, which Caleb was well aware Molly found arousing. At least, if the state of the tiefling’s erection was anything to go by, the tiefling was already enjoying himself.

Too bad Caleb wasn’t nearly finished with that cute little cock yet. He hadn’t even started.

“Mmmm’ _ja_ , sooner or later...” Caleb hazily promised, managing a momentary pause against Molly’s coaxing onslaught.

“You know I have to ask, dear boy,” pulling back for a moment to breathe, Molly wound his arms around Caleb’s neck, every line of the tiefling’s body so inviting but loaded with danger in the same instant. As he smiled with deceptive innocence, and gracefully rubbed his cock against Caleb’s. “Is it going to be sooner, or later?”

Caleb could only smile, amused and admittedly charmed by the tiefling’s clever persuasions. The beguiling music of his voice, the knowing tease of his tone, and beneath it all the warm sparkling draw of pleasure. As Molly rolled his hips and their erections brushed together. It stoked the wolf’s hunger, snapping in Caleb’s chest, drawing his appetite closer to the surface as he contemplated the task of stripping all this away.

All the grace, all the loaded games would be pulled aside, even the teasing names would disappear.

There were times when Molly talked, and talked, and _talked_. And Caleb enjoyed them. When Molly wanted to be lusted after, wanted to spark desire, and words were the magic he fell upon, like verbal components in a spell. And Caleb could only listen, and feel the edges of his appetite expanding.

Because the tiefling was reaching for one thing, and Caleb was going to give him quite another.

“I think you’ll just have to wait. And trust me…” the wizard said in a whisper, grinning roughishly at Molly’s shoulder, and distracting himself with a stray curl of hair at the back of Molly’s neck.

He smiled and allowed his hands to drift, sliding down to rest around Molly’s narrow waist, gentle but possessive as he gripped into the sharp bones of the tiefling’s pelvis. And Molly was clearly chafing, if the restless whip of his tail was anything to judge by. Softened and pliant, tilting his hips closer into Caleb’s hands, arms stiffening around the wizard’s neck.

They were so close, and Caleb knew how easy it would be to tip. To let his hand drift just a few scant inches further. That was all it would take to feel Molly’s heat, his stiffened desperation. To make the tiefling whimper and moan, and tremble with pleasure, till he offered up his rush of molten radiance.

They would touch and enjoy each other...And Caleb would find no release for the craving trapped inside.

Molly gasped, caught off guard, as Caleb shoved him backwards. Back and down, into a low cushioned armchair that Molly had forgotten, and the wizard was all too aware of. It was a heavily padded thing, made for lounging by winter fires, and Molly bounced as he hit the soft cushion. He frowned in confusion, glancing up with his mouth open about to ask a question, but Caleb left him no time and silenced him with heated lips.

“Do you...do you trust me?” The wizard anxiously checked, when he pulled away from their dance for the second time, and it was with a shade of need that almost overrode his desire.

He always needed to confirm this, with those darker times in mind, those moments when Enough became Too Much. Molly took pleasure in riding the razors edge, in flaunting his trust to the world as he leapt from that cliff again and again and again. The tiefling still believed in Caleb’s half forgotten dance of charm and confidence, aping the young conquerer he used to be.

But there were moments when Caleb was terrified Molly would get more than he bargained for. The teifling might be unable to tell the difference between Self Assurance and a Shade that was something like it, but Caleb knew that deep within himself, that weakness was there. The rotten core in the middle.

The wizard couldn’t be perfectly assured of everything, and Molly especially was a mystery that had always defied his definition. From the first moment the handsome, love struck tiefling with his heart on full display, had waltzed into Caleb’s life, Molly had been a stretch of unsteady ground that Caleb could never confidently navigate.

And one day he might cut deeper than Mollymauk meant him to.

The brush of Molly’s hand across Caleb’s cheek, brought the wizard’s spiraling thoughts back to center. As the tiefling stroked him, and smiled without a hint of judgment or fear, resting where Caleb had placed him with a comfort that the wizard could only envy.

“I trust you.” Molly whispered firmly, taking a moment to meet Caleb with the sober confirmation he needed. “With all of me…it’s all yours, sweetheart…”

And there was still the subtle invitation, Molly’s arousal tangible as he offered up his body, trying to draw the wizard closer. But Caleb was assured once again, steadied on dependable footing, and didn’t give in. He was resolved on his direction now.

“ _Ja..._ ” Caleb hissed, expelling his burdens all at once, as his head drooped.

“Tell me what you want,” the teifling said, not as if he were demanding it, but like an invitation. An open door for Caleb to walk into.

“I want you to be patient,” Caleb stated, taking the plunge, and revealing his power. “I have some rules. And I need to know you’ll obey them, _ja_?”

In these times Caleb was careful to take advantage of Molly’s desire, because the tiefling _did_ desire. Molly could enjoy the intimate moments, he was tender and loving so of course he did. But the rules...the limitations, the boundaries and punishments...when it was about Power and the Lack of It, and Caleb held the reigns.

Those interested the tiefling in a much more erotic way.

So Caleb was careful to lean close, but not close enough. To give Molly the warmth of breath, but nothing more. To bring their lips within inches, but never take Molly’s mouth for his own. Caleb was a man of risks worth rewards...and Molly, with his itching need and aching cock both so exposed to see, was starting to sense his danger.

“I trust you, dearest.” Molly breathed, voice hushed and hungry, eyes warm and wanting, body coiled and ready.

“That is good. Because I’m going to give you everything…more than you can take…” Caleb promised, with laden danger in his voice.

And he could read the anticipation, the way Molly’s need expanded with the promise. Because the wizard had proved himself more than once. He knew all the right buttons to press, the right words to say, the right places to touch, and Molly knew he could fully believe the vows. It would be a shame to spoil that anticipation, but with the wolf’s desire in Caleb’s mind, the wizard knew he couldn’t do anything else...

“The rule is, that you can’t give in.” Caleb instructed, feeling the appetite growl with satisfaction, like a painter revealing their newest masterpiece with a flourish. “Instead, you have to submit to me...”

“What do you want me to do?” It was breathless with want, it was shrinking with dread, but Molly’s cock was still clearly itching.

“Take everything you can take.” Caleb growled, hovering close, with the tiefling’s breath on his face and those plush velvet lips only inches away. So close, yet not right to take. “But don’t come, until I tell you to.”

“What if I _want_ to come?” Molly tested coyly, grinning with wayward mischief. “Even if you tell me not to?”

“If you displease me, I’ll make you come till you’re empty, and begging me to stop.” Caleb threatened with perfect truth.

He’d done it before, on one of their other little games. Made Mollymauk kneel in front of him and masturbate until the tiefling was exhausted and couldn’t climax without Caleb’s help. Even then, Caleb had made him orgasm twice after that, empty and burning, just to be thorough. And Molly had certainly loved it, in the halfhearted way you could love anything that hurt like fucking hell, but it wasn’t Caleb’s goal tonight.

“What I want,” the wizard went on in a growl, “is for you to be patient, and show me how much you can endure...” he brought his eyes up to lock with Molly’s, just to watch the tiefling squirm under his words. “Until then, you need to be patient…and submit to me.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Molly half complained, and for all his shrinking words, his cock was clearly taking interest. “You’re a very alluring man, sweetheart.”

“I’m only asking you to try.” Caleb faltered, confidence crumbling slightly under the tiefling’s protests, even if they were only in play. It was daunting to keep up the pressure, in spite of Molly’s constant acting out. So easy to feel like his grip on control was slipping.

“Of course dear, if you really want,” Molly relented, the push and pull of power momentarily abandoned.

“You can do that for me?” Caleb pressed for reassurance.

He hated that he needed the confidence boost, like a needy child constantly searching for affirmation. But he couldn’t curb himself from asking.

“Of course I can, darling.”

“Because I fully intend to force you to come, while you’re fighting to keep from moaning my name.”

“I’m counting on it,” Molly half snarled with feral anticipation.

And now was the time for pressure again, for Too Much But Not Enough, as Caleb allowed his hands to slide up along the tender skin of Molly’s inner thighs. Slowly but firmly spreading the tiefling’s legs apart, until he was open exposed. Until Molly was obscenely offering himself, and his very pretty cock was twitching. Which Caleb pretended not to notice.

“I’ll be good sir...” Molly hissed, slowly rolling his hips against empty air.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

When Caleb stood up, leaving Molly empty and aching in the chair, it was clear to see how much it cost the tiefling. He was flushed stiff and ready, shuddering with want as Caleb denied him, and clearly ready to touch himself in the absence of anything better. That was always part of the tactics: making Molly crazy with lust was such an effective tool, and the wizard was flagrant with it now.

Leaving Molly in the armchair, Caleb went to the other end of the room to retrieve his tools. He was already prepared with a long piece of silken rope, such a dark red color it looked like blood. Caleb had found it the day before, while he was browsing the markets of Port Demali with Jester, and he’d guiltily purchased it. On the Menagerie Coast, nobody even blinked at such purchases, but Caleb still blushed like a fool every time he thought about exposing his sexual tastes so explicitly.

Guilty or not, he’d worked himself up to the point of buying it. And now he was grateful, with everything he planned in store, ready to make up for the embarrassing memory.

Bringing the rope back to the fireplace, Caleb set about putting the rope to good use. The tiefling was pliant and obedient, leaning back in his chair when Caleb pushed him, and it was easy to tie Molly down hand and foot. Much more satisfying by far than the ease of it, was the arousal heavy weight of it. The way Molly shocked in his chair and groaned as soon as the rope touched his skin, unconsciously rising up to press against the textile stimulation.

It was slow and reverent, a near sacred enjoyment of the red lace pattern Caleb was weaving, and they were both undeniably turned on by it all. As the wizard bound the length of ropes across Molly’s chest, the red lines against lavender flesh making shapes out of skin. And Caleb couldn’t get enough of the spread of Molly’s legs as he tied them down, gone hard and throbbing underneath his coat at the sight of the erotic, slutty picture they were painting.

By the time Caleb finished, Molly was so hard the wizard guessed it was probably more than a little uncomfortable. Caleb had done very thorough work, and as he stepped back to admire it, he gazed on a job well done. He’d been so careful, Molly could barely move an inch, completely pinned against the chair.

And truly the tiefling looked beautiful, lavender skin and woven tattoos, framed in a lattice work of rope. He was bound in a weave across his chest up to the throat, that held him back in his chair. Some of the rope wound down his arms, from shoulders to wrists, to keep him tied to the armrests. And still more looped over his legs to hold them spread open against the legs of the chair. But the best of the pattern circled around his hips, pulling his waist forward in a slouch away from the chair back, and pinning him there shameless and exposed.

Molly was beautiful. And still clearly far too much in control...there were still several layers to peel back yet...

“That is _gut_.” Caleb declared, unable to quite keep from gloating.

He leaned forward to put his finger under Molly’s chin, tilting his head up until they were face to face, just inches away from each other. The tiefling’s breath hissed out hot and shaking, and he strained against the ropes in a vain effort to lock lips. But he was so securely restrained, he could only tilt his head forward, a movement that was nowhere near enough to achieve what he wanted.

“What am I to do with you then...” Caleb mused, slow and measured, still coiling Molly up tighter. “You’re clearly excited, aren’t you.”

He looked down at the tiefling’s groin, and Molly’s hips instinctively strained up against the ropes, as if he could press his cock further into Caleb’s gaze. The tiefling looked half undone already, flushed heavy with arousal, and harder than Caleb had seen in a while. This approach was clearly working.

“Look at how hard you are!” Caleb suddenly snapped, voice grating harsh and dangerous.

Seizing Molly’s hair, Caleb forced the tiefling’s head down. Bringing him face to face with his own erection, panting through his teeth and twitching under his own attention. As if being forced to look at himself only got Molly more turned on, he moaned raggedly, and rutted against the ropes that wouldn’t let him move.

“What a shameful little cock.” Caleb declared, dragging Molly’s head back up to his face.

Molly whimpered. A soft broken sound that meant half a defeat already. Sometimes he could be a painfully easy read, but Caleb still never got tired of it. Molly was just so easy to tease sometimes.

“I look at a cock like this, and I wonder if it’s so hard, because it wants to be exposed...” Caleb reasoned out loud, watching the tiefling breathe shallow and shaking, rolling his cock useless and unsatisfied against empty air. “Perhaps it’s so hard, because it likes being humiliated.”

“Caleb—”

The wizard went on, taking no notice of Molly’s breathless plea, holding his eyes and speaking without reserve. “Maybe...deep down....you want people to look at your dick, and know what a needy little slut you are.”

Molly moaned, the sound unrestrained and passionate, rising from deep within his body, and precum dribbled down the side of his cock as his member twitched in the air repeatedly. Clearly the words struck a kinky cord with him.

“Do you agree?” Caleb asked, aloof and judgmental.

“ _Yes_ —“ Molly hissed, eyes blazing with fiercely burning adoration and lust.

“I thought you might.” The wizard agreed thoughtfully, smiling with the tension of danger behind his teeth. “The truth is that you like it. You like being used, you like being dirty, and you like people watching.” Caleb surged forward to growl over Molly’s lips, just inches from the tiefling’s whimpering mouth, “you like getting fucked like a whore.”

“ _Shit_ —“ Molly outright whimpered, tied hands scrabbling for purchase on the armrests where he was anchored. He was trembling in his seat, shameless mouth pouring filth into Caleb’s triumphant ears. As the tiefling strained against the ropes, and sobbed like a promise to his deity, “I’m a slut. Your needy slut.”

“Say it again.” Caleb snarled, constricted by the heavy clench of arousal in his gut. Such a molten weight, he almost palmed himself to relieve the pressure, the weight of his cock a hard burning line in his clothes. “Tell me what you are.”

“I’m yours,” Molly gasped, whimpered, moaned. Promised in a thousand different sincerities, voice a tangled mess of lust. “I’m yours. Your slut: your greedy, filthy, wet little pervert.”

Caleb groaned behind his teeth. Even now, when Molly was tied down, naked, totally exposed, the wizard was no match for Molly’s uninhibited mouth.

“I’m all yours, sir,” the tiefling unblushingly declared. “You can fuck me, use me like a whore, so everyone knows I’m your bitch.”

Gripping Molly’s horn, Caleb wrenched the tiefling’s head back. The wizard was throbbing beneath his clothes, aching like a fire in his heartbeat, and determined to memorize every filthy facet of Molly’s face. To watch, as this shameless man so unrepentantly begged for the kinds of things that made Caleb blush to even think about. And with that promise of “yours” hanging in his ears, and watching as the tiefling’s cock gushed with arousal under Caleb’s authority, was a euphoric surge of heady power.

“Fuck—“ Molly moaned, eyes fluttering as Caleb’s hand closed around his horn, and he tilted into the grip to expose the obscene slender column of his throat. “Use me. _Use me_ —please Mr. Caleb—fuck me. Fuck my face—”

“You want me in your mouth?” Caleb asked, dizzy with the roar of desire in his ears.

“ _Please_...” Mollymauk whimpered like a kitten.

“Beg for it then.” Caleb grated harshly, seizing Molly by both curled horns, and scrambling into the chair until Molly’s salivating mouth was whimpering needily about a foot from Caleb’s crotch. “Beg for my cock.”

“I need it,” Molly almost sobbed, fighting hard against the restraints now, and swallowing hungrily as if he couldn’t stop himself from working his throat around nothing. “I need your cock sir. I want to taste you. Please, I’ll be so good for you. I’ll let you fuck my throat, and lick your cock like a good slut. Just let me have you. Just come down my throat.”

It was more than Caleb could stand without bending. Pulling Molly’s head as far forward as the tiefling could stretch against the ropes, they met half way. Caleb growling predatory and heavy with desire, bringing his hips in to grind on Molly’s face in jerky aborted thrusts, hissing venomously at the release of pressure. An agonized euphoric moan released from Molly’s throat, the heat of his breath sinking through layers of fabric to find Caleb’s skin. Then slick wet sounds and slowly spreading dampness, as Caleb realized with a groan that Molly was accepting his tented erection with an open mouth, tongue pleasuring greedily at the bulge.

Shakily Caleb shoved Molly’s head away, trembling around the heat in his stomach, and pre-come on his small clothes. The tiefling went with a protesting wail, petty and dissatisfied. He looked completely wrecked, eyes hazy and lustful, mouth hanging open, pink and pleasure bruised, slick with saliva down his chin.

“You are...going to be the death of me...” Caleb panted, shaken and fighting for coherence.

Molly only whined, licking his lips obscenely, and trying to lean back into Caleb’s groin.

“Shush— _Nein_ —“Caleb stammered, fumbling with numbed clumsy fingers at his belt, “you have to be patient—“

Spurred on by a desperate litany of pleas and curses from the tiefling, Caleb unceremoniously wrenched his belt apart, and shoved his trousers down just far enough to let his erection untangle free. The tiefling’s effects were unmistakable, Caleb’s member flushed heavy and swollen, sending pulsing throbs of arousal through his abdomen, and dribbling pre-spend against the chill air. Molly was almost bucking beneath him, the endless stream of “please” and “sir” disappearing into a high pitched keening cry of lust when Caleb’s hands came back to find the tiefling’s horns. And another sated moan rising through his chest, as the wizard directed Molly’s head forward, and Caleb’s erection parted Molly’s lips.

Molly’s mouth was heaven. The yielding heated slickness, pliantly accepting. A clinging wetness of aroused taste and wordless worship, underscored by the liquid eroticism of Molly’s tongue, rolling against Caleb’s member and inviting him deeper. Molly’s mouth and Molly’s moans, both softly pleading, completely open.

Stilling at the limit, Caleb bowed under the weight, panting hard. As he rested, pure and centered, at the heart of Molly’s lips and tongue. The tiefling was still whining, nibbling almost affectionately at the little of Caleb he could maneuver around in his helplessly restrained position. Giving little suckling licks and tugs, trying to invite Caleb into moving. It was a moment of heavy stillness, overburdened with pleasure that made the wizard’s teeth ache.

For a moment Caleb could only shakily explore, taking time to cautiously roll his hips forward, rutting carefully into Molly’s mouth. And with the movement came a plunging clench of arousal through his thighs. As he watched his own hands guide Molly’s mouth into the thrust, watching the ease of Molly’s parting, and felt the rolling leisurely slide of wet heat that ignited an ache in his bones. The wizard could actually watch Molly submitting, completely helpless to Caleb’s hands. So that it was Caleb’s lust, and Caleb’s control that took complete precedence, guiding Molly’s mouth like an object. A tool or a toy.

It was intoxicating. A rush of power rising up his spine, bowed by the knowledge that Molly’s mouth, _Molly’s_ mouth, this devilish untamed thing, was completely docile to Caleb’s hold. Quaking with nervous anxiety, Caleb risked a sharper thrust, snapping uncoordinated and rough into Molly’s mouth. The tiefling gagged on the movement, then moaned on the gag, hands twitching against the rope, as his cock dripped on the chair cushion.

The tiefling was still completely lax against Caleb’s grip, faithfully submissive and open. Then Molly dragged his eyes up, meeting Caleb’s face like a god hovering over him, and the lust in that look made Caleb hiss. As he stroked Molly’s hair, and gripped the tiefling’s horns, and thrust into Molly’s mouth in earnest.

Before Caleb had been the one submitting, and as much as he’d gloried in the torturing pleasure of Molly’s mouth, this was an entirely different experience. It was sharper. He had more time for it, watching the easy bob of Molly’s head under his hands.

Then Molly swallowed in time with the drag of Caleb’s cock. The rolling clutch of Molly’s throat drawing a startled cry from Caleb, that the tiefling answered with a moan, tonguing at the wizard’s cock with faithful dedication. Every thrust made Molly moan, every slick wet sound of the tiefling’s mouth made Caleb’s erection jerk, leaking down Molly’s throat. As the pressure built, like molten steam behind Caleb’s cock, and the pleasure of Molly’s mouth began to loosen Caleb’s control on his tongue. Tiny aborted huffs and groans falling from him, in the haze of control and sex, thrusting uncontrolled into Molly’s mouth, unabashedly using the tiefling for pleasure.

Underneath him Molly jerked, accepting Caleb’s next thrust with a full body shudder. And as the tiefling moaned throatily, shaking in his bonds, Caleb looked at Molly beneath him, and realized what was happening. Molly’s hips were thrusting uncoordinated and overwhelmed against the ropes, shaking with the strain, as he soiled himself with a gushing surge of spend.

With that rush of realization came a simultaneous one, as Caleb recognized the clever coil of Molly’s tail, wrapped around himself.

His _tail_.

Through every other precaution, Caleb had completely forgotten to trap Molly’s tail. And under the cover of Caleb’s need, the sly motherfucker had stroked himself to completion, releasing premature and disobedient, against Caleb’s plan. Irritation made Caleb’s next thrust almost cruel, as he moved on auto pilot, completely caught off guard by Molly’s mischief.

Caleb jerked himself sharply from Molly’s mouth, shoving the tiefling backwards against the armchair. There had been a plan to this, and Molly had completely ruined it. And to add insult to injury, the tiefling had the impudence...the unapologetic cheek to _giggle_ as he was pushed away. Laughing in Caleb’s face.

“You. Goddamn. Brat.” Caleb intoned carefully, restraining the irritated authority behind his teeth.

“Sorry—“ Molly gasped, laughter still caught in his voice, and his eyes glittered with bladed merriment, as he offered impertinently, “I couldn’t wait.”

If the tiefling meant to inspire anger with the mocking tilt to his mouth, the careless way he shrugged, the inadequacy of his excuse; he succeeded. It was a roar in Caleb’s ears, a pressure in his heartbeat, a clench in his fists to keep them from shaking. The blaze of rage so consuming that Caleb was turned to stone with it, completely frozen. Assaulted by such a flood of imagined retributions, and possible punishments, that he couldn’t choose one. Couldn’t think of a retaliation that would give Molly what he deserved.

“ _Du verdammtes arschloch_ _—“_ Caleb choked _,_ his mouth failing to form words venomous to do Molly justice _._  

“I’m such a bad boy, sir,” Molly taunted with a laughing grin. “You’ll have to spank me, to teach me to be good.” 

Molly’s words were infuriating, but beneath the anger was embarasment. The laughter made Caleb angry, but that was because deeper still it made him feel weak, out of control and exposed. Because the tiefling was so wild, and Caleb couldn’t find his footing, couldn’t grasp the reigns again. He’d lost his plan, and he’d lost his authority, and Molly was laughing about it. It was insulting. 

Caleb snarled with frozen frustration. Throbbing with the energy that had nowhere to go. It hurt to be wordless, hurt to have no plan. Hurt to have no way to strike back. And it couldn’t be enough, but his hands itched, and he had to do something. So he lurched into action...

And slapped Molly across the face.

It was a ringing crack, that threw Molly’s head to the side, and made Caleb’s hand burn. The strike made Molly moan with highstrung pleasure and sensitivity, gasping against the arousal, and whimpering after the moan. Punishment was Molly’s ecstasy, and the tiefling clearly enjoyed himself.

It didn’t matter. 

The echoing slap rang in Caleb’s ears like nails on a chalkboard, shrieking on the inside of his head, until it left him deafened. The burn made his hand numb, nerveless and shaking, as if it didn’t belong to him. Shaken, sickened, hands trembling, ears ringing.

_Bitter in his mouth. Sobs through his lungs. He gagged on it._

Caleb stumbled on his feet, stomach rolling on panic, and grinding, crushing guilt. 

“ _Man up_.” 

“Sweetheart—“

_He cried sharply, sprawling to the ground. Blood tinged in his mouth, as his cheek burned, cowed and crushed by the strike. He couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop yielding._

_Trent had slapped him._  

He had slapped Molly. 

“ _Stop crying_.” 

_A kick made him shy away, fighting the impossible task of doing just that. A flash of white made him flinch. Terrified of even a handkerchief dropped at his feet._

Caleb stumbled back on his feet, clamped a hand over his mouth, fighting uselessly to stem the tide—

_“Clean up this mess.”_

And vomited through his fingers.

“Caleb—oh gods—“

_He could hardly make his hands move. So unstrung with shock, and fear, he was fighting to grasp the handkerchief. All he could think about were the boots in his vision, the hands he knew could hurt him. As he clumsily swabbed the dirt from the desk, from the floor...from himself..._

Molly’s voice had vanished. Caleb’s own had left him. Gaging around another wave of fruitless nausea through his stomach, as he tottered on his feet, and collapsed in his own fallen bile. The world was spinning violently out of control, tossing him dizzily.

 _His cheek burned_...

A flash of fire made him flinch away, wheezing for breath that couldn’t come. He wanted to run. Wanted to hide. Wanted to curl up and die. But in the fight for air, for coherence, for ground that didn’t heave under him, there was no time for any of these things.

Molly’s hands, still smoking and flaking off burnt cinders of rope, grabbed him by the shoulders. It didn’t help. Couldn’t possibly help. Caleb was too far gone to hope of recovering solid ground. But the tiefling gathered him in anyway, joining him in the filth and vomit, joining him in the nightmare.

The tiefling was trying to coach Caleb’s breathing, but the wizard couldn’t hope to follow. He could hardly pay attention as it was. All his focus directed inward. Desperately trying to repair his walls. To rebuild his dam of safety, brick by brick, while the flood of memory surged over the boundary, scattering his useless stones in the tide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Man it's crazy to define brand new. It's amazing, I got high on few. But tonight I'm feeling tired and alone...Dear lord, I hope we didn't go wrong..._
> 
> Top Of the World, by Kimbra


	36. Pale Is the Morning Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _My boy builds coffins for the rich and the poor. Kings and queens have all knocked on his door. Beggars and liars, gypsies and thieves. They all come to him 'cause he's so eager to please._
> 
> _My boy builds coffins for better or worse. Some say its a blessing, some say its a curse. He fits them together in sunshine or rain. Each one is unique, no two are the same_
> 
> [My Boy Builds Coffins](https://youtu.be/clF_Df_Jrm0), by Florence + The Machine

Caleb blinked awake to golden light on his face, prickling across his skin with insubstantial warmth, burning scarlet behind his eyelids. Even before opening his eyes, his brain reliably informed him of the exact time: seven in the morning. The same hour he always woke, every day.

For as accurate as the number was in his mind, it felt displaced. Because stretching before it was a black hole he remembered nothing about, frowning with fuzzy discomfort at the inadequacy of his memory, and trying to brush away the cobwebs. That was never supposed to happen. He remembered everything. Often wished he couldn’t, with all the picture perfect memory of blood and pain imposed on his mind with crystal clarity, impossible to live with and impossible to forget.

But he was in bed. With no idea how he’d gotten there.

He hummed with wordless confusion, and tried to stretch, but found he couldn’t move his arms. Because somehow he’d come to be rolled up in a restrictive blanket burrito that was several layers thick. Again with no idea how he’d managed to pad himself so firmly. Not only that, but his blanket roll was tucked in close to Mollymauk beside him, so the wizard’s head was pillowed on Molly’s chest, and the wizard’s disoriented, unnerved struggling made the tiefling groan drowsily.

“Five more minutes...” the tiefling mumbled blearily, patting blindly at Caleb’s face to calm him. Then Molly jumped, and exclaimed, “oh fuck—didn’t mean to fall asleep—“

“Mollymauk...”

“Yes!” Yawning hugely, Molly scrubbed at his eyes, and thumped the side of his head, before his sleep hazed eyes drifted down to find Caleb’s face. “Good morning, sweetie...”

“How...“ Caleb said hesitantly, still halfheartedly trying to worm his arms out of the extremely tight hold of his blankets, “how—how did we...”

“You didn’t seem to be in a very talkative mood,” Molly said flippantly, as if nothing at all was the matter, even while his eyes tightened. “So I rolled you up like a sausage, and put you to bed.”

“I don’t...remember it...” Caleb muttered frowning with apprehension

“Well...ya weren’t really here, love...” Molly said, with too much carelessness to be genuine.

“I always remember everything...”

“Better not think about it, dearest.” Molly curbed Caleb firmly, arm tightening around the wizard’s pillowed shoulders. “Some things only spoil your morning.”

Caleb couldn’t suppress a shudder. The dim hazy edge of memory was coming back to him: overturned and nauseated, drowning for lack of air, choked to death in the blackness. Molly’s voice, and the comfort of blankets was somewhere in the mix, but it was so tangled and sickened with the rest of the vomit, that picking them apart would only invite the panic back. The wizard released that edge, mumbling “ _ja_...” and turned his head deeper into Molly’s shoulder.

“How d’you feel now?” Molly asked with a gentle hand soothing Caleb’s hair.

“About...like usual I suppose...” Caleb said, brow knitted with ruminative thought.

“You seem a little gray to me, dear.”

The wizard only shrugged, “I am...always a little gray, I think...”

“Doesn’t seem like an entirely pleasant way to live...” Molly mused with a faint whiff of resentment, that Caleb didn’t pay attention to, because the tiefling had made such comments before.

“It is...you know...” he shrugged again, “it is what it is...”

“You need to eat.” Molly snapped, unexpectedly changing the subject, and worming out from under Caleb’s head. “Stay here, I’m going to fetch you something.”

Hearing that ambition made Caleb immediately open his mouth to protest. Intending to fend off the food with assurances of his wellbeing. Falling back on the excuses of his disinterest, and the weighted hollow in his stomach that didn’t need filling...But as if Molly knew all the protests, he didn’t wait to listen.

“All they’ve got is fruit,” Molly said as he wormed away, leaving Caleb to himself.

“Molly...”

“But fruit is a fine way to start the morning...there’s worse things you could have I suppose...like pastries—“

“Mollymauk—“

“Honestly I don’t know how Jester still has teeth with all the sickeningly sweet shite she eats every morning for breakfast—“

“ _Mollymauk_ —“ Caleb protested with true urgency, hindered by the blankets wrapped around him like a straitjacket, so that he could only flop helplessly in Molly’s direction.

But the plea made the tiefling pause, the look on his face something too complicated for Caleb to read. And Caleb found the honesty to mumble, “no food. Please?”

“Darling...” Molly said, half resentful, half sympathetic.

“Could you...could we just, sit, maybe?”

“That’s all you want?” Molly asked with a sad smile.

“ _Ja_. Just. Just hold me. Please?”

“Of course dear.”  

The tiefling returned, and wriggled back into bed. Finally, Caleb managed to extract his arm from the blanket wrap holding it down. Molly pulled an exaggerated pout, nudging the wizard’s shoulder with an elbow, as he settled.

“I wanted to feed you, pretty thing...”

“Maybe not...maybe not this morning...” Caleb mumbled apologetically, with a reluctant shudder. “I am not hungry.”

That care, for as pleasant as he found it, was a shade too close for comfort at the moment.

With a small hum, Molly curled into Caleb’s side, slipping his arms around Caleb’s shoulders, and hiding his face in the wizard’s neck. It was reminiscent of a clingy five year old. The tiefling’s breath warm on Caleb’s neck, tail winding around Caleb’s wrist.

“I’m sorry I ruined your plan...” Caleb offered guiltily, plucking at the blanket. “Usually I would like it, you know, but...”

“I just want you to know that I care...” Molly said, voice muffled in Caleb’s blanket nest.

“I know you do...”

“Yes, but I still want to.” Molly growled, more petty, and less melancholy, gripping almost uncomfortably tight around the wizard in his grasp. “You’ve got a stubborn habit of brushing me off, and I need to say it better so ya hear me...”

“I know how you feel Mollymauk...” Caleb contradicted with a slowly forming frown.

This didn’t seem...straightforward...

The sound of Molly’s emotion laden sniffle only solidified that notion. As Caleb pulled together enough insight from the fatigued haze of after-panic, to finally pay attention. And he took in the sharp tension on Molly’s shoulders, the reluctance to expose his face, and the guilt ridden droop of the tiefling’s normally perky tail.

It wasn’t about Caleb. It wasn’t about expressing affection better, and in a way it wasn’t even about increasing Caleb’s comfort, though a part of it certainly was. This was about easing Molly’s own mind, bringing the tiefling peace, and silencing the guilty thoughts.

This was Molly apologizing.

“You did nothing wrong Mollymauk.” Caleb said with cautious honesty, squeezing his other arm out of the blankets to clasp Molly’s shoulders. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Totally was though...”

“You did not—“ Caleb faltered, choking on his tongue, before he forced himself to speak. “You did not...make the things that linger with me...”

“Fuck—“ Molly said, voice strangled with an outright sob. “Gods, you scared me, darling—“

“I’m sorry...”

“If I didn’t have that Rebuke ready to trigger, that would have been it.” Molly exclaimed, with undisguised horror in his voice. “I would have been fucked. You would have been gone, and there wouldn’t have been a fucking thing I could do to help you.”

Surprisingly, Caleb examined himself in the face of Molly’s words, and found himself calm in spite of them.

“It was...not pleasant, _ja_...” he acceded carefully, “but I would have...dealt with it eventually. I have had such episodes before. With no one to help. And it is not...ideal. But it would not be completely unknown.”

“I don’t want you to ‘deal with it’, on your own,” Molly growled. “And I still feel like a goddamn bastard for risking it.”

“You can have a knife next time,” Caleb offered. “So you can cut yourself out, if you feel that you need to.”

“There’s not gonna be a fucking next time,” Molly snarled. “Not ever. Not like that...”

“But you liked them so much...” Caleb protested with a shot of guilt through his stomach, shamed by the prospect of allowing his inhibitions to ruin Molly’s pleasure. “We both liked them. I liked them...you look very pretty in rope...”

“It’s not negotiable, sweetheart.” Molly snapped out, hard and clear as a bell, in a tone that brooked no argument. “Unless I can get out of it, within a count of five, I’m not gonna fucking tolerate it.”

“Molly...” Caleb mumbled, tongue laden with apologies that he knew the tiefling would never listen to. No matter how sincerely Caleb expressed them.

Too bad the tiefling sensed them anyway.

“It’s not about you, love. This is my line.”

“I still feel bad...”

For a moment Molly said nothing, and Caleb watched his tail whip with irritated determination.

“No ropes,” the tiefling repeated firmly. “No ropes, no strangulation, and no long term injuries. Those are my lines.”

“ _Ja_.” Caleb agreed with hesitant confusion, in the face of these unexpected boundaries. “Ok, I will not do those...”

“And you?”

“Me?”

“Your lines,” Molly said, sitting up to look at Caleb directly. “Things that are completely out of the picture. Boundaries we are never, ever, going to cross. Period.”

“Oh...” Caleb said weakly, mind completely blanking.

Molly only arched his brow expectantly.

“I-I don’t—“ Caleb faltered. “Insults...maybe?” He offered sheepishly, shoulders rising with anxiety. “I don’t want you to degrade me. And...and strangulation, _ja_. That is very not good.” He shivered at the mere thought, and finished in an awkward mumble, “and the ropes...are not so _gut_...for me.”

“You’re sure there’s nothing else?” Molly prompted gently.

“I don’t...I cannot think of anything right now...”

“Pain, maybe?” The tiefling said. “Hitting me really seemed to upset you, dearest.”

“That is—there are—it is hard to explain...” Caleb stammered awkwardly. “There is pain to make you Feel. And pain to make you Think.” He shuddered with a roll of nausea through his stomach, and hissed, “I do not like the pain to make you Think.”

“You might have to elaborate on how they’re different,” Molly said.

“He—Trent hurt me,” Caleb whispered. “But it was, all in _here_ ,” he tapped the side of his head, “all to make you think things. He hurt us to make himself powerful. To make us fear him.”

For a moment he couldn’t continue, and Molly stroked stray hair from his forehead with silent understanding.

“But the rest...scratching you, or hitting your ass, or—or pinching you a little...those are different.” He flushed with embarrassment at the honesty. “They just make you feel...feel more...”

“So you’re sayin’ you could potentially be into spanking me, but you don’t want to slap my face,” Molly grinned, with a teasing face palm. “Most people would say those are wildly disproportionate in severity, darling...”

“Nothing near your face,” Caleb repeated with a shudder. “And... _ja_ , no lasting injuries or marks. Cuts...or heavy bruising would...be very bad for me...”

“Of course,” Molly gently reassured, when Caleb fell silent chewing on his lower lip. The tiefling smiled, and settled back into Caleb’s side. “I promise to abide by your rules, and respect your safety, dearest.”

“ _Danke_...” Caleb mumbled, “I will...do the same...”

Molly snickered, and nudged Caleb’s shoulder

“Anything you really _do_ like?” Molly asked, with saintly innocence in his voice, and a wicked grin on his face.

The wizard’s flustered reaction, immediately going beet red, didn’t disappoint.

“You know,” the tiefling teased gently, “any fantasies that you’re particularly attracted to...”

“Molly...” Caleb mumbled protestingly.

“Come on, sweetheart. We’ve fucked each other senseless before, I’m sure you can deal with talking about it.”

The human faltered, picking at the hem of his blanket, and Molly waited with an indulging smile. He’d learned to be patient with Caleb’s thoughts by now, knowing how reluctantly they came to the surface. Caleb just needed time.

“It is very selfish.” Caleb confessed at last, low and sheepish, avoiding Molly’s eyes.

“Oh poo,” the tiefling quickly rebutted. “You in particular aren’t “selfish” enough.”

“I like...I like...” the wizard shrank guiltily, and mumbled, “I like when you spoil me.”

“Spoil you!” Molly exclaimed triumphantly, with raised eyebrows and a wide grin. “Please, do elaborate, lovely boy.”

“You...call me nice names...” Caleb said with a blush, smiling at Molly’s childish smugness, but not quite meeting his eyes. “You always make me feel good. And I know I make mistakes, but you are...very kind about them.”

“It’s not about what I do, is it?” The tiefling murmured. “It’s about why I’m doing it.”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb agreed, jerky and rough.

“I try my best, sweet thing...” Molly smiled sadly, lightly running his talons over old burn mark on Caleb’s upper arm.

“And I—“ he flushed with embarrassment, “I really want to try a blindfold.”

“You’d be interested in _that_?” Molly asked, with an incredulous rise in his voice that made Caleb shrink with embarrassed guilt. Burdened by the feeling that he was boring. 

“I am,” Caleb confirmed, after a short conflict. “It would be easier...I never know where to look...”

“Well, I’d be happy to do it, at the earliest opportunity...”

“Maybe,” Caleb said, with a faint smile of amusement at Molly’s ever present suggestive grin.

Humming pleasantly, Molly settled against Caleb’s side.

“What about you though?” The wizard asked, after a short silence.

“Me?” Molly hummed absently, “you mean, what kinky ideas turn me on?”

“You don’t have to tell me...”

“No, no, I don’t care at all, darling. I really don’t have a verbal filter.” Molly laughingly reassured.

“I might have noticed.”

“Well, you may have also noticed I fucking love blow jobs.” The tiefling declared shamelessly, making Caleb choke on nothing.

“I should have known you would say it so bluntly,” Caleb wheezed.

“Just getting used in general, really tickles my pickle,” Molly jokingly continued, just to watch Caleb laugh incredulously. Or awkwardly chuckle, which was as close as Caleb every came to laughing. “Dirty names, dirty sex...it’s all wonderful really...”

“I don’t know how you can hear half the insulting things I say to you,” Caleb said with a shiver.

“Maybe its just because society calls them horrible, and I personally don’t agree,” Molly said lightly. “What’s wrong with loving sex? Or pain? Or a little bit of both? If enjoying my body makes me a slut, than fuck society, I’m a slut. I’m having more fun anyway.”

“I just...find it hard to relate...” Caleb said, with a shade in his voice that Molly would almost call wistfulness.

“I know, dear.” Molly soothed gently, petting Caleb’s hair. “It’s not your fault.”

Caleb’s eyes fluttered shut, pressing into the caress like he always did. A satisfied smile curled over Molly’s lips. Sometimes this lovely wizard could be so wonderfully easy to bend.

“Thank you, love.” Molly said, after a long comfort filled silence.

“For what?”

“For negotiating with me.” The teifling said earnestly. “This talk needed to happen...”

“Ja,” Caleb said, with a slightly confused frown that said he still didn’t quite know what he’d done right, but was happy to accept it anyway. “Of course.”

Cupping the wizard’s face, Molly bent down, to hover over it. Stroking Caleb’s cheekbones with his thumbs, Molly traced every line. He followed the heavy bags under Caleb’s eyes that were apparently a permanent fixture in the wizard’s tired face, the scatter of ruddy freckles across his nose, the lingering tension at the corners of his mouth...and imperfect or flawless, Molly didn’t discriminate in his affection for it all.

“Can I kiss you, darling?”

“Please.”

And it was right. It was easy. It was familiar as his own face. Caleb’s lips, Caleb’s jagged breathing, Caleb’s yeilding mouth. Molly smiled against it, a grin breaking through the kiss, and he felt Caleb shiver against the smirk.

“Mollymauk—“

“Yes, love?”

His eyes swept again over Caleb’s face. Lingering over the kiss plush warmth of Caleb’s mouth, slightly open as if waiting for more affections to make him wordless. Molly traced the shy intensity of Caleb’s gaze, always so skittish, and hanging just out of reach. Even now, with Molly a few heated inches from his face, the wizard had his eyes awkwardly fixed on Molly’s sternum.

“Can we—could we...try the blindfold? Now?” Caleb requested shrinkingly.

“Sweetheart—“ Molly choked on euphoria, “of course we can...”

Laughing, Molly gently sought out Caleb’s lips. The simplicity in a way made it heavier. Molly’s heart ached with it. The knowledge that this wonderfully earnest boy wanted nothing but affection, to be cuddled and cared for.

It made it sweeter in a way. Heartbreakingly innocent.

“Of course I can do that,” Molly promised earnestly. “Let me just get a scarf.”


	37. In Darkness We Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Remember those walls I built? Well, baby, they're tumbling down. And they didn't even put up a fight, they didn't even make a sound. I found a way to let you win, but I never really had a doubt. Standing in the light of your halo I got my angel now._
> 
> _Feels like I've been awakened. Every rule I had you break it. The risk that I'm taking, I'm never gonna shut you out. Everywhere I'm looking now, I'm surrounded by your embrace. Baby, I can see your halo. You know you're my saving grace._
> 
> [Halo](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wda2qajOBi8), cover by Jasmine Thompson
> 
> (I love the original song, but it sounded too triumphant and euphoric to me. I liked the quiet peace and angelic vocals of the cover better in this case).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning! 
> 
> For: A brief Post Traumatic Flashback that describes solitary isolation and sensory deprivation.

As much as Caleb wanted it, he was still terrified of it. The telltale flutter of nerves in his stomach, the ache gripping the ribs of his chest in a vice. Fear made the room grainy and erratic, the fire too bright, but distant and unreal at the same time. Tipping under the gray, clinging to the world by a few fragile threads.

He was on the razor’s edge of panic.

Then Molly’s weight bent the mattress, as he settled in front of Caleb. And the tiefling’s hand steadied his cheek, beguiling the wizard’s lips into unlocking. Caleb leaned into the kiss, finding the contact that made him less dizzy with nerves, and more present with his head.

“I’ve got you darling...” Molly breathed, as if the words were made of glass.

Caleb sighed, breathy and released, eyes fluttering shut as he rocked toward the security waiting in Molly’s hands.

“That’s it,” the tiefling coached reverently, “that’s it...let me take you...”

Molly’s words felt like sand. Under the weight Caleb’s head was so heavy he could hardly make the effort to sit straight, breath turning slow as molten rock, as he fought hard to keep his posture from folding forward completely. It was so hard to sit straight. So hard to think...and so, so easy to finally breathe...

The brush of silk against his cheek made him flinch, violent and startled, jerking away with a choked off whine. It was agony. Coming painfully back into his head, loosing his hold on the deeper place that left his chest free. Molly’s hands instantly steadied him, jerking the scarf away, and the tiefling shushed soothingly.

“It’s not you’re fault —“ Molly hastily steadied. “It’s not your fault...”

Caleb whined guiltily at the back of his throat, and Molly cupped the wizard’s cheeks again.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart,” Molly murmured soothingly, “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Molly...”

“I was going too fast,” the tiefling said firmly. “I didn’t warn you.”

Tiredly Caleb gave up the fight, even while he still privately struggled to shake the guilt. But with his face against Molly’s chest, and Molly’s hand soothing his hair, it was easy to let the relaxation come back. Tension releasing from his shoulders, as he allowed the molasses sleepy weight to take him.

“How d’you feel?”

“Green...” Caleb mumbled.

“Ready to try again?”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb said, trying to make his voice decisive, and pull his head up from the support of Molly’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna let you feel it this time,” the teifling warned him, “ease you into it.”

“Ok...”

Gently Molly cupped Caleb’s hand, turning it palm upward, and coaxing the fingers apart. Caleb watched as the tiefling carefully laid the silk scarf across the wizard’s palm, and Caleb unconsciously closed his fingers around it. Twice Molly pulled on the scarf, so that the liquid material spilled out through Caleb’s fingers, making Caleb smile with the feeling and then hum with disappointment to have his hands empty.

“Good?” The tiefling questioned.

“Good, _ja_...Green...” Caleb whispered with a tiny smile.

“Then I’m gonna try again,” Molly purred carefully, “ready?”

Obediently Caleb nodded, jerkily leaning forward slightly into Molly’s space, in a silent agreement for the tiefling to continue. Moving slow, and infinitely gentle, the tiefling cradled Caleb’s cheek, pausing for a moment. Before Molly reached out to ghost his palm across Caleb’s face, covering the wizard’s eyes with a hand.

Somehow the darkness made it terrifyingly real. Caleb whined, reflexively reaching out to search the darkness in front of him. Immediately the tiefling’s hand captured Caleb’s own, and Molly brought the hand up, pressing a kiss against the wizard’s knuckles.

“I’ve got you.” Molly said, deeper, more possessive, resonating through the wizard’s bones.

With infinite care, the teifling began winding the scarf around Caleb’s hanging head.

It was like additional pounds dropping around Caleb’s head. Each one more solid, with every loop of silk. Until the wizard’s head was cottony with pulsing ghost weight, tugging his heavy head down. It was a physical effort to sit straight.

“Too tight?” Molly asked carefully, after knotting off the trailing ends of the scarf.

“ _Nien_...” Caleb shook his head.

He reached up to explore the edge of the bandage, nervous fingers picking at it. And yes, the edge of anxiety was there, grinding against his teeth. The animal instinct to rebel against the blindness, like someone struggling to walk downstairs with their eyes closed. As he tried to open his eyes, it was still dark, and he fought the command that pulsed down his arms: ordering him to remove the bandage.

“Shhhh,” Molly hissed, hands capturing Caleb’s cheeks, two points of steading sensation in the darkness. “Come on sweetheart,” the teifling breathed, “let go for me.”

A pleasant shiver ruffled over the wizard’s body, as Molly’s lips brushed unexpectedly against Caleb’s. The barest brush of movement, that made Caleb’s lips burn with heat, tipping forward to find the rest of it. Dragging the wizard in for another steadying kiss, the teifling growled into Caleb’s mouth. Heavier weight hung behind the tiefling’s lips now, Molly’s mouth molten skillful, coaxing Caleb out of his head.

Lost in the kiss, Caleb neither expected, nor struggled against Molly’s direction when it came. The taloned hands pushing against Caleb’s shoulders, and shoving backwards. And as the wizard’s back hit the bed, Molly’s lips suddenly turned predatory, as he held Caleb down and his forked tongue unapologetically took what he wanted.

And Caleb, blindfolded, pinned, stripped emotionally bare, moaned against the onslaught, clinging to Molly’s shoulders for dear life.

“There he is!” Molly praised triumphantly at the sound of Caleb’s surrender, voice warm with pride, “that’s so good dear.”

Caleb moaned again, head tipping backward to expose his neck. Body sinking with the ghost sensation of endlessly falling backwards, as the bed opened, and his head was pulled downwards into the neon dark. Floating in the velvet, with Molly’s words cradling him like an embrace.

“There you go, let me catch you,” the teifling reassured, “I’ll take care of you.”

The words made Caleb choke on emotion, painfully close to something he couldn’t admit he craved, and it made Caleb’s heart ache. Stabbed through the center of the chest with a blade of trust that pinned him raw and completely naked against the bed, hardly able to coherently think...much less put up a fight...

Molly’s hands ghosted up to find Caleb’s, and the tiefling carefully pressed them backwards into the mattress on either side of Caleb’s head. With a meaningful press Molly left them there, and Caleb mentally pinned them down. Fingers twitching nervelessly, held down by the prickling ghost weight, that swirled around his head and hung on his palms.

“Sit still,” Molly instructed, voice ringing authoritative and commanding in Caleb’s completely disarmed brain. “I’m going to fetch a couple things...wait for me to come back. Ok?”

Tongue heavy and mute, Caleb nodded thoughtlessly. He had no other choice but to obey. Didn’t want another choice, even if there had been one.

“That’s my good boy,” the tiefling praised lightly, as if it wasn’t such an overpowering thing for Caleb to hear. “I’ll be right back.”

With a light jostle, Molly’s weight abandoned the bed. And it stung. Caleb almost cried out with it, as the thread of proximity snapped, and he immediately turned his head to follow the ghost sense of Molly’s form through the blindfold. He wanted to sit up. Wanted to follow. But Molly had told him to wait, and he didn’t dare risk disobeying.

So he stubbornly rooted his head to the sheets, savagely forcing himself to be obedient, and wait.

Now that Molly’s form had vanished the air around Caleb was quickly turning cold. Exposed instead of sheltering. He huffed discontentedly, fighting the desire not to squirm, hands unconsciously clenching into fists, as he suddenly realized how much he didn’t like this. The animal nerves creeping back into his head, vulnerable in the dark, waiting to be preyed upon.

What if Molly didn’t come back...

The unwelcome thought made Caleb flinch, catching a whine behind his teeth, as he squirmed fearfully against the bed. What if Molly left him?

_He couldn’t see._

Another burning craving flooded down his arms, itching to remove the blindfold.

_Couldn’t see..._

Stop.

_Days of pitch dark, and maddening silence. First he tried to fight it, begged for respite, and then screamed for it, until his voice was gone._

Just stop thinking about it.

_Scratched the walls until his fingernails were bloody._

Stop thinking.

_Punched the wall with the meat of his hand, just to feel the dull throbbing pain._

Catching a sob behind his teeth, he grasped uselessly at the vanishing ability to breathe. 

_Just to feel..._

Stopstopstopstopstop—

 _He screamed when the light came. Cowered away from it, and begged like an animal. As Trent let him out and he clung, blindly weeping, to the teacher’s arm._  

Caleb’s breath was quickly turning into a knife. A stabbing pain through the center of his ribs, that prevented him from drawing a full breath. Grasping at the dark, he whimpered, small and aching, shivering over the heart stopping fear constricting his lungs.

_Couldn’t see..._

“Mol—Mollymauk—“ he feebly pleaded, pinned against the bed, begging to be let out.

“Yes, darling?” The teifling’s voice responded questioningly, then much more sharply, “sweetheart!”

Even that small reprieve made Caleb openly sob, fighting hard to smother the flare of hope in his gut that would inevitably be betrayed. Then Caleb distantly heard the thunk of pottery landing on the bedside table. And blessedly, finally, Molly’s weight was in the sheets. The warmth of his hands was gathering up Caleb’s unstrung body, the comfort of his voice was murmuring healing whispers against Caleb’s skin, his gentleness was picking up Caleb’s scattered broken pieces. And Caleb was suddenly weeping with it.

“Gods—Caleb—“ Molly stammered regretfully, “sweetheart—I’m so sorry—“

Shaking with leftover panic, Caleb floundered desperately for air against the tiefling’s chest. With bladed fear still shredding through his lung, adrenaline turning his stomach sour, Caleb couldn’t have forced himself to disengage from Molly, even if he’d wanted to. All he could do was focus on one choking breath after another, as he blindly anchored himself to Molly’s shoulders.

Like a rock in the middle of the ocean, Molly’s support was immovable. Holding Caleb upright, as the panic clawed at him, and left him bonelessly clinging. Gently Molly rocked the wizard back and forth, reassuring with an endless stream of whispers. 

Finally Caleb collapsed, as the full weight of his breath came back, and his shoulder’s uncoiled. With the panic gone, fatigue took it’s place. As Caleb leaned hard into Molly’s shoulder, and gloried in the power of simply _breathing_. Slowly the world relaxing into place, as Molly’s warmth worked it’s way into the wizard’s head.

“Green...” Caleb finally spoke.

“You’re back?” The teifling said, as if struggling not to hope, or move the wizard somewhere too quickly.

Caleb nodded wearily.

“What happened?” Molly questioned carefully.

“Went...hazy...” Caleb mumbled clumsily, explanation flawed and incomplete.

“Flashback?”

“When you left...felt like you weren’t coming back...” Caleb shivered against the dregs of memory still swirling in the back of his head, and burrowed deeper into Molly’s shoulder, voice rising to a whine, “don’t want to talk about it.”

“Shhh—that’s fine—“ Molly immediately soothed, making Caleb jump with an unexpected caress across his tensely coiled shoulders, “you’re fine. You can let it go.”

They were simple words, but the relief in them was overpowering. As the permission came, and the thing Caleb had been fighting so hard to do was suddenly easy. Falling backwards without fear, just because Molly told him it was safe to do so, venting a sob as the last clinging anxiety dropped away.

“D’you want out?” Molly asked tenderly, talons drawing lines of fire across Caleb’s skin that made the wizard shiver.

It was that simple. Caleb knew he could get out.

And that was the thing that made him shake his head.

“No?” The teifling said, sounding surprised. “You want to keep it?”

“Mmmm’ _ja_...” Caleb sighed.

Molly was warmer here.

Lost in the dark, trusting completely to the tiefling to catch him, Caleb was still magnetically drawn to the blindness. It was a duality of complete trust, and comeplete lack of control. Something that made it so easy to fear. And at the same time so, so easy to _trust_.

With Molly to keep him safe, Caleb wanted to be defenseless.

“I thought you’d want it off...” Molly checked cautiously, “but if you’re comfortable with it still.”

“S’you—“ the wizard stammered, loosing track of his words.

Feebly he tried to explain, searching for words to contain his thoughts, and finding that the coherency he needed skirted just out of reach with every attempt. It was hard to think, hard to anchor himself in the real world. Trust and oblivion both tugging at his mind. In the end the only words he could form were nothing like the thought he wanted to convey.

“You. You are...it makes you bigger...”

“Me, bigger?” Molly said, with a teasing smile that Caleb could _hear_ in his voice.

“More...” Caleb struggled. “It’s...more...”

How was he supposed to make it simple? A way to explain how magnetic Molly was. How easy it was to completely give in. The blindfold was a handicap, and under the darkness Molly became everything. The voice that burned in Caleb’s veins, the hands that held him together, the protector that covered Caleb’s nakedness.

“ _Bitte_ —“ Caleb whimpered, giving up on words, and resorting to voiceless need.

“Slower,” Molly purred, dragging a hand through Caleb’s hair, making the wizard’s head sag involuntarily. “Take your time, sweetheart...”

“I want...I want...” the words had vanished from Caleb’s head, and all that came was feeble plea that didn’t say anything he wanted, and yet contained everything he needed, “Molly—“

“Would you like help dear?”

“ _Bitte_...”

“You like how the blindfold feels, and you want to keep it.” Molly supplied helpfully, making Caleb’s unburdened shoulders sag, as the weight of speech was claimed from him. “But not alone yes?”

“ _Ja_.” It made him shiver to even think about losing Molly’s support again.

“That’s because you want me,” the tiefling continued, unraveling the problem with an ease that Caleb envied. “You want me to do something?”

Embarrassment made Caleb bite down on his lower lip, flushing and ducking his head to hide, even though no one was watching. The tiefling chuckled, and his fingers traced over Caleb’s shoulders. Which of course, meant that Caleb could feel himself turning an even deeper shade of pink.

“Was that all you wanted, love?” Molly purred, honey and smoke in his voice. “You want me to take care of you?”

Caleb nearly sobbed with relief, gripping hard and desperate around Molly’s shoulders.

“That sounds like a yes to me...” the tiefling merrily teased.

“Mollymauk—“ Caleb choked on his tongue.

“Come’ere you sweet thing...” Molly said, voice hazy and entrancing, catching Caleb where he couldn’t feel anything but completely disarmed awe. “You deserve a kiss, my boy—“

Elation made Caleb’s stomach drop out. Breathless and half numb with the trance of intoxication, moaning into Molly’s mouth with a feeling so far from sexual need, and so much closer to open adoration. As Molly’s tongue took such flagrant advantage of him, hopeless of keeping up, completely pliant against the tiefling’s intent. The golden exchange of tongue, and teeth, and heat. Somehow getting caught and beguiled in a dance with clever lips that outdid him.

“Gods you go down so easy,” Molly gasped to himself, sounding almost terrified with the revelation. “Fucking shit—“

When the tiefling broke away, Caleb couldn’t restrain the unabashed whine of complaint that fell from his lips. Trying cautiously to chase, but completely blind, and unable to seek out Molly’s mouth once it had fled. A lighthearted tinkling laugh broke from the teifling, and he affectionately cupped Caleb’s searching face, forcing him to back down into compliance.

“Patience,” Molly taunted, with the laughter still tangled up in his voice. “Don’t you worry your head about a thing, darling. I’m going to spoil you rotten.”

The tiefling’s laughter made Caleb respond with a defenseless smile of his own, grinning in the dark, and mumbling shyly, “I know...I trust you...”

For a moment he was answered with only weighted silence, and the lack of response made him nervous. As second guesses, and worst scenarios rose to unsettle him, guilty with the sensation of wrongdoing. Then Molly made a strangled choking sound, like tears he tried to disguise with laughter.

“Darling, that’s —“ Molly stammered.

The taloned hands Caleb knew so well, suddenly drew his head forward. And Caleb felt the fiery tenderness of Molly’s lips touch his forehead, careful and affectionate.

“Molly...” Caleb muttered questioningly, frowning beneath the blindfold with bemused confusion.

“Thank you, darling,” Molly said in a whisper, “for giving me that...”

“I don’t know what I gave you...”

“You said you trust me,” the tiefling murmured, as if he could hardly believe it.

“Of course I do...” Caleb frowned, wondering how Molly could make such a simple thing so important. “You are. You are _you_...” he shrugged at Molly’s general direction, “of course I trust you...”

“I really don’t deserve it, dear,” Molly laughed, with a hitching note of melancholy in it.

“You have...always been there for me...” Caleb mumbled, words halting and clumsy on his tongue, like trying to make a portrait with finger painting.

And it was true. He could, at the very least admit that, after all this time. Even though it was a fierce conflict, fighting against every fearful instinct and survival driven mantra that had built up in his head over years of wandering, Caleb had no excuse or second guesses left.

Molly was worthy of Caleb’s complete trust.

He trusted Molly. Trusted in Molly’s kindness, his good intentions, his feelings. The wizard couldn’t trust Molly never to hurt him, but he’d learned that he could completely trust Molly not to _try_. And small as that distinction was, Caleb had vicious scars to mark the difference.

“Could you...Mollymauk...” Caleb stammered, shifting discontentedly under Molly’s hands, as the clingy desire rose back to the forefront of his mind. “I want...”

He was silenced by Molly’s easy kiss, locking lips as sweetly as children. Molly’s affections plentiful and generous, given freely, from an open heart. Caleb’s chest fluttered with it, but in a lighter way than before. With words stripped away, the struggle taken out of his hands, it was so much easier to give Molly actions instead of words. Putting what he couldn’t speak, into what he could happily do.

Molly guided him down to the mattress, somehow getting Caleb to lounge out completely naked in the darkness, with seductive ease. And once down, Caleb quickly lost himself. Floating on a haze of trust and pleasure, grounded from drifting off completely by the solid weight of Molly hovering above him, pinning him down.

“Let me have you, sweetheart,” Molly coaxed, something between a seductive force of nature, and a tender caretaker. “I keep my promises...”

“ _You have me_ ,” Caleb’s brain wanted to say, “ _you have all of me_.” A faint moan was all he got from his vocal cords instead, tilting up to expose his throat.

“You’re my boy...my good boy” Molly rumbled with possessive tenderness, “and I’m going to take care of you.”

Kneeling forward, the teifling breathed kisses and heat over Caleb’s chest, making the wizard blindly press up into Molly’s affection. Slowly Molly pressed a kiss to the protrusion of every rib, pausing over each sharp bone. Until Caleb’s breath was heavy with sensitized anticipation, bracing against every unexpected touch, unable to predict where Molly would touch next.

“Look at you,” Molly said, with a mix of admiration and sadness tangled in his voice. “My boy: so pretty—“ his teeth rasped faintly at Caleb’s throat, making the wizard shudder and expose his neck helpfully.

“But so thin...” the tiefling went on, with true pain in his voice, the tingling edges of sharpened nails skipping down the ladder of Caleb’s ribs, “my boy’s all skin and bones...that won’t do at all...”

Molly’s distant voice, suddenly purred directly in Caleb’s ear, making the wizard jump pleasantly at the unexpected proximity. “If you won’t take care of yourself,” Molly hissed, “you’ll just have to let me feed you...”

Those words drew a needy cry from Caleb’s throat. It was a suggestion that caught him in a place of no defenses, surprising himself with his own eagerness, completely open and ready to submit. The idea had undeniable attraction. Something about being so completely at Molly’s mercy, totally helpless in Molly’s control, the passive object of Molly’s attentiveness.

“Mollymauk—“ Caleb slipped, off guard and actually starting to beg, before he caught belated hold of his tongue.

“Mmmm, you like that idea don’t you...” Molly’s words taunted affectionately.

The teifling’s fingers were suddenly playing over Caleb’s panting mouth, and mindlessly Caleb pushed into them. Mouth suddenly too empty, and searching for occupation, latching onto the touch without thinking. As Caleb wrapped his lips around Molly’s touch, and invitingly sucked.

Molly laughed, open and giddy, voice almost incredulous as he said “aren’t you a hungry boy...” Then his voice darkened as he muttered possessively, “the trouble I could get into with you, sweet thing...”

His hand suddenly withdrew, leaving Caleb empty and dizzily complaining. The sound of Molly’s laugh: a free unfettered thing with golden light refracted in it, made Caleb’s stomach flutter. The tiefling sounded like joy, something not unlike the thoughtless laughter of a child.

“I want you to eat all of it, like a good boy,” Molly warned, with a lively grin hanging around his voice.

For a moment there was only preparatory silence, as Caleb strained to hear Molly’s movements, listening as the tiefling retrieved whatever pottery dish he’d hastily left on the bedside table a few feet from Caleb’s head. A small suspicious voice in Caleb’s brain couldn’t help expecting Molly’s prankish nature to do something ridiculous. Like immediately sliding his cock into Caleb’s mouth without preamble, making some truly awful remark about giving Caleb a hearty meal.

Thankfully, the tiefling was surprisingly tender instead of mischievous.

Gently something cool and slightly wet prodded against Caleb’s lips, and he nervously flicked out his tongue to explore it. The texture was smooth, with tiny divots across the surface, and he caught a droplet of water beaded on it. Now that he was paying attention, he could smell the food too: a warm hazy scent that reminded him of sunlight, and grassy summer fields.

“You’re supposed to open your mouth so I can feed it to you,” Molly said, strong amusement in his voice, “not lick it.”

It made Caleb’s stomach clench to obey, heat and pleasure both settling like a molten weight in his gut. Shaky with need, and coiled anticipation, overwhelmed with the release of letting Molly take complete control. He opened his mouth, breath turning heavy behind the blindfold.

Molly was so careful, it made Caleb ache in quite a different way, ready to sob with the comfort of being so cared for. As Molly nudged the offering past Caleb’s lips, and then Caleb felt the tiefling coaxing his mouth closed with a taloned finger under Caleb’s chin. So Caleb bit down, faithfully following Molly’s lead.

He immediately recognized the taste, once it was in his mouth. Momentary resistance of a fruit’s skin, and then the prickling burst of flavor. The tiefling had given him a strawberry. A bright vibrant sweetness, warm and sugary, accompanied by the acidic edge that made his mouth pucker.

“You’re so _good_ for me...” Molly’s voice purred over the wizard, smug with approval.

The praise made Caleb moan around the fruit in his mouth, shuddering with another rolling clench of heat through his gut. Tipping under the vertigo of blind intoxication, pulled open and exposed by nothing but Molly’s voice, and Molly’s approval that left him dizzy.

Molly shushed lovingly through his teeth in response, one slender hand carding into Caleb’s hair, with all the affection of someone petting their favorite cat. The tingling release of pressure that came with Molly’s hand turned Caleb boneless, giving in completely before the petting. Tipping father into the haze, that came with unfettered loss of control.

“Now chew that up completely, and swallow it,” Molly coached firmly, in a tone that left no doubt that it was an order.

With heavy warmth in his stomach, Caleb began to obey. But a moment later the tiefling’s hand stroked through Caleb’s hair again, and it made his mouth slack, unburdened and drifting apart at the seams. Molly laughed at Caleb’s unstrung reaction, and the gentle talons tapped a reminder at the wizard’s lips that made him remember the fruit in his mouth. So Caleb tried to comply, taking his time with the strawberry’s summer sweetness.

Methodically the tiefling fed him another strawberry, letting Caleb settle into the rhythm of parting his lips around each new bite. Careful silence, filled with Caleb’s heavy breathing, and Molly’s occasional praise and whispers. It had a measure of predictability that settled Caleb’s shoulders.

Then Molly fed him a strawberry, and his hand gently palmed Caleb’s cock at the same time.

It was overpowering. Surging euphoria and numb revelation, so crushing that he tottered under the weight. A high pitched, broken cry wrenched from his lips, voice cracking under the strain. As the heat flared in his stomach, and the vague unmet need of forgotten arousal suddenly solidified, demanding his attention, satisfied and denied at the same time by Molly’s agonizingly light touch.

“Color?” Molly prodded cautiously, his hand stroking slow and grounding through Caleb’s hair.

This wasn’t what Caleb wanted. The wizard wanted to sink, wanted to let go. He wanted to give in, and give up, releasing all the effort. He wanted to be cared for, wanted to be touched, wanted to feel Molly touch him.

And the words? Finding coherency, thoughts turned into communication. That effort, fighting for speech, seemed insurmountable. Demanding coherency he didn’t have. Words were hard, and Caleb wanted Molly to make it easy. 

All that rose to his lips to express himself was a frustrated whine. Opening his mouth, and getting nothing from his vocal cords. Everything lost in limbo, floating away from him in the hazy disconnect of voiceless trust, and speechless need.

It was honestly a little frightening.

When he tried to answer, and couldn’t communicate. Tongue turning coward on him. The slow onset of anxiety made him squirm, writhing with frustration against the bed, unconsciously searching the darkness for Molly to hold him steady. He couldn’t say that he was happy. And now he couldn’t say that it was starting to turn on him, and the wordless void where before all his Common had been neatly categorized, only grew more nerve wracking the longer he tried to fight it.

“No, no, no,” Molly hastily reassured, his hand wrapping around Caleb’s searching one, “stay with me love. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Shakily Caleb clung to Molly’s hand, a helpless mumble of wordless apology bubbling past his lips. The tiefling’s free hand stroked through Caleb’s hair, and a moment later Molly’s warm lips met Caleb’s forehead, the combined pressure of kisses and comfort shoving Caleb’s discomfort into the background. As he hung limp in the dark, gathering himself back to center.

“Can’t talk?” Molly asked, blessedly neutral in tone.

Flushing guiltily, Caleb forced himself to nod.

“Can you squeeze my hand if you’re green?”

Caleb huffed out a sharp sigh of relief, squeezing vicelike and emphatic around Molly’s hand.

“There you go...good boy...” Molly praised, with a fond smile in his voice.

The wizard whined, high pitched and sensitized. Warmth and arousal rolling his stomach, turning him grainy and weightless. As if the world turned to smoke, and he was drifting away in it. Lost on Molly’s voice, and Molly’s approval, and _Molly, Molly, Molly.._.

“If you’re ever red, just let go of my hand.” The tiefling’s voice instructed, tethering Caleb back to earth with a mere word, and a simple touch through his hair.

Blindly Caleb nodded, squeezing around Molly’s hand again.

“You were green earlier yes?”

Squeeze.

“You want to keep going?”

A sharp squeeze, and a needy whine from the back of Caleb’s throat, trying to pull Molly’s arm closer.

“Shhh, trust me, sweetie...” Molly purred, unexpectedly bending close over Caleb’s ear, “I know. Don’t worry...I know...”

The tiefling lips dropped to linger over Caleb’s throat, drawing a pleased moan from the wizard. As Molly’s free hand ghosted over Caleb’s ribs, stroking along his side, making him shiver with unseen touches. With the warmth of Molly’s mouth, the unconscious rhythm along Caleb’s torso, the wizard was pulsing. Molly’s other hand squeezed around Caleb’s locked in a sure grip.

That simple anchor point was somehow the most arousing thing of all.

“You’re being so good, darling boy,” Molly praised, as if he knew every weak crack in Caleb’s walls and pushed them down like they were made of paper. “And I promised to take care of you.” 

Neither of Molly’s hands moved from their anchor points, but Caleb suddenly felt sensation around his erection again. Choking on a moan, as his hips jerked upward, and he felt the coil of liquid heat coax at his need. The swirl of Molly’s tail, flexible and snakelike, taking him in a gentle coil.

“I’ve got you,” Mollymauk growled, layers upon layers of additional meaning beneath his words now. “I keep my promises...”

Suddenly the tiefling’s free hand abandoned Caleb’s side, and the wizard could hear Molly reaching for the bedside table again. The tail had stilled enough around him, and Molly’s words left the wizard open enough to be unabashedly hungry. Making a shaken sound of approval, shifting with impatience against the bed.

“Eat.” Molly commanded with quiet authority, that was only strengthened by its gentleness.

Molly’s fruit prodded at the wizard’s lips again, and Caleb opened to accept it on his tongue, before he realized the texture had changed. Hazily taking in the sticky feel of Molly’s offering, before the flavor worked its way into his head. A golden tang of warmth on his tongue, mingling with the solids summer flavor of the strawberry, spreading with a floral sweetness as it melted in his mouth. The familiar spice of honey.

He hummed around the piercingly pleasant sensation of the sweetness, the flavor consuming in its potency, making him follow the thread of it eagerly. Accepting the fruit, hungry and exploratory, determined to find every last sheen of honey. 

Like a reward the tiefling’s tail shifted around Caleb’s cock, filling his bowels with a shot of sweet fire, mingling with the honey on his tongue. Naked in the blindfold, Caleb was hopelessly sensitized, as he keened in the back of his thoat. Turned limp and nerveless, against the edge of overwhelming stimulation that was so laughably simple.

“Open your mouth.” Molly commanded quietly, voice loaded with mingled affection and authority, that Caleb melted before.

Panting with the pleasure of Molly’s tail, Caleb numbly obeyed. Within moments the tiefling’s touch was back, sweetened once again with golden honey around his fingers, gently pressing back into Caleb’s mouth. While the tiefling’s tail continued in faithful counterbalance, the tail tip stroking lovingly over Caleb’s head, stimulating at the slit.

“Come on,” Molly coaxed playfully, “let me take care of you...”

Caleb whimpered and shuddered in his blindness at Molly’s words.

Unable to think against so much stimulation, made all the more potent by the loss of one sense, Caleb accepted it all. Opened his mouth, opened his legs, and cried for _more_  and _mercy_ at the same time. Leaking and unstrung, blindly compliant, clinging to Molly’s hand, and rutting up against Molly’s tail. Accepting honey from Molly’s fingers with blind obedience, as Molly’s tail cradled his cock, fat and needy, stroking moans and pre-seed from him in tandem.

“So good—“ the tiefling praised, with tears and tenderness in his voice, as if his own affection almost overwhelmed him. “So obedient for me...”

Caleb moaned at the affirmation, and Molly’s mouth devoured it. As Molly’s finger’s abandoned him, and the tiefling’s skillful mouth replaced them. Swallowing down Caleb’s moan, as he dizzily cried with overworked bliss, sucking needy and helpless at Molly’s tongue. He could feel Molly’s pleasure too, the tiefling’s predatory growls falling in counterpoint to Caleb’s high pitched whimpers.

“You’re such a sweet, beautiful boy, darling. So pretty.” Molly murmured lovingly. The tender caretaker, the devoted protector back in his voice, in full force.

With a liquid coil, the tiefling’s tail slithered away, and the full pressure of Molly’s hand replaced it. Making Caleb cry, broken and muffled, shocking against the spike of sensation. A touch so simple, that needed nothing more complete. It was so simple. To let Molly have it all. The control, the pleasure wracked cries, the throb in Caleb’s groin and the weight of his cock. All aching, all trembling, all overwhelmed and unstrung by the pure euphoria of letting Molly take care of him. 

“ _My_ boy...” Molly breathed possessively, overpowering Caleb with nothing but the mere whisper of his voice. 

All the words were gone, all the coordination. Caleb couldn’t have nodded even if he wanted to. The heated stroke of Molly’s hand, gently pumping his length made sure of that. He was past asking for more, past crying out _yes_ , past anything but total submission. Leaking and twitching in Molly’s hand, sightless in Molly’s blindfold, consumed by Molly’s care. 

The wave of satisfaction was achingly complete, and surged until Caleb was drunk on it. High on the drug of sex and honey, burning in the dark, with completely sated pleasure. Instead of need, he was overwhelmingly full. Belly aching with sated hunger, lips and tongue numb with pleasure, cock swollen heavy and overburdened with faithful stimulation.

“My sweet boy,” Molly praised. “My smart, pretty, perfect boy.”

Caleb wordlessly sobbed, stabbed in the chest by such undeserved affection.

“My beautiful mess. My perfect mistake.” The tiefling rasped, mingled tenderness and heartbroken empathy in every word, a complete and unreserved acceptance. “My _beautifully_ broken boy...”

Orgasm filled Caleb’s gut like an inevitability. The flood of molten surrender claiming him, as he limply accepted it. Pleasure piled on top of pleasure, bliss added to bliss, until the weight of Molly’s care, and Molly’s loving control broke him. The final catharsis of climax overwhelming him, like the final dish of a decadent feast, something he was almost too full to accept.

His stomach clenched around it, crying brokenly against Molly’s mouth, as the final fire claimed him. Burning alive in the dark, and surrendering completely. The heat of sex and satisfaction burned down his legs, dropping weighted into his stomach, as he released full and overwhelmed against Molly’s skillful touch. The coiling stimulation of Molly’s hand catching his seed, and coaxing at him for more

Molly was praising him through it. Crying with triumphant affection, as he coaxed Caleb to give it all. The words made no sense, scrambled in the tide, but Caleb throbbed until he was drunk on them. He didn’t need to understand, knew that Molly would praise him, and that mere knowledge was enough. The sweet freedom of knowing that Molly cared, and Molly claimed him. That this final fire was the epitaph that Mollymauk deserved. 

Like warmed velvet, the darkness and trust closed over his head. Sinking beneath the surface, as cathartic pleasure claimed him, and he was thrust under the flood. Finding the stillness he craved, the muffled silence and darkness of water at the bottom of a deep well...

Disjointed peices of Molly’s voice brought him back. Suddenly returning in the middle of unfettered tears, with his face tucked into Molly’s chest. Held secure in the cage of the tiefling’s arms. He could see again, the blindfold pulled away and forgotten, hopelessly infatuated with the tiefling’s gentle smile hovering over him. 

“—that’s my boy.”

A hand brushed the hair out of his eyes, flashing lavender and coiled snake green.

“You’re all good, sweet thing...let it out...”

Caleb sobbed over it, the relief and release of simply having permission.

“That’s right...so good...you’re so good...”

“Mollymauk—“

“Welcome home, darling ” Molly said, smile widening, with the warmth of laughter sparkling in his blood red eyes. “This really did a number on you didn’t it—”

Caleb hardly heard the tiefling’s lightly teasing words. So unexpectedly caught and overcome by the simplicity of Molly welcoming him _home_. As if it was a simple truth, so easy to say. As if the bitter joy of it didn’t crush Caleb’s heart in a vice, choking on his own emotions, and complete release of weight from his shoulders.

“You are—” Caleb suddenly choked, the words suddenly rising so thick and fast that they almost smothered him.

“Oh?” Molly repeated with a roguish tilt to his grin, “what am I dearest?”

“You are my home.” The wizard confessed, tongue untied by the freedom of everything Molly had already taken from him earlier.

The teifling mouth froze speechlessly, hands turned to stone in their grip around Caleb.

“You are my home...” Caleb repeated in a whisper, shy and shrinking, but completely assured of the truth, “ _und ich liebe dich_...”

Clumsily Caleb forced himself to meet Molly’s eyes. The connection, terrifying in it’s vulnerability, grating against his nerves. But he held the thread for one second, and then a second longer. And then he reached out to brush a finger over Molly’s lips, and mumble honestly, “I love you...”

Still no words. As Caleb held the tiefling’s eyes, and watched tears begin to form at the corners. Slowly emotion taking control of Molly’s face, until his eyes screwed shut, and he choked on a sob. The wizard watched a tear streak the tiefling’s cheek, as Molly shivered with overburdened emotion, and Caleb reached out to wipe it away with his thumb.

Molly seized Caleb’s hand before the wizard could pull away, clinging for dear life, and Caleb allowed his fingers to conform around Molly’s.

“Thank you, darling—“ Molly choked, voice half lost in a sob.

Caleb nodded, strangely calm in the face of Molly’s storm, and squeezed around Molly’s hand.

“I love you, sweetheart—“ The tiefling was truly weeping now. “I love you so much—fucking—I can’t even—Jesus Christ, I love you so much—“

“Molly—can you—“ Caleb stammered, words tripping over themselves on his tongue. “Can you—could you kiss— _bitte_ , I can’t say it good enough—“

He hardly had time to speak the request, before Molly practically pounced on him. Surging into the kiss with such vigor, that Caleb hardly had time to pull in a breath of preparation. Even then, Molly was weeping through the kiss, imperfect and messy, trying to lock lips with Caleb and get enough space to say “I love you” at the same time. And Caleb was suddenly overwhelmed with it.

As if the kiss was the key, it suddenly unlocked everything.

Because as freeing as speaking the words had been, touching Molly with the thought hanging around his tongue was an incomparably greater liberation. Finally, finally, the touch that said it good enough, that spoke what he couldn’t say. This was truly Caleb’s confession, so much more earnest that the clumsy common words he could barely speak.

 _I’m all yours if you’ll take me._ His kiss smothered mouth was saying. 

 _I’m all yours if you’ll accept me._ His numb tongue was confessing. 

_I’m all yours if you’ll love me. All yours if you’ll forgive me. All yours if you think I’m enough. I’m a mistake, and a sinner, and I can’t be what I was. But I’m yours._

The kiss spoke it, because words couldn’t do it justice. And Caleb unrepentantly wept with it.

_I’m yours if you’ll let me be enough._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I try eating all these foods with my eyes closed, in order to better describe how they taste?  
> Hell yeah I did.
> 
> Did I find out that strawberries dipped in honey are basically the best idea ever?  
>  _Fuck_ yeah I did!!!
> 
> (Y’alls seriously need to give it a try)

**Author's Note:**

> So guys...I’ll be honest: the busy shit in my life I was talking about? Well it’s kicking my ass.
> 
> And I think I’ve gotta let this fic be what it is. Honestly there’s more stuff (and smut) that I wish I had the time, or place, or just peace in general to get into. But that’s not really the case, so I’ve decided to let this be my ending. 
> 
> I’m happy with it, and I feel like everything that really _needed_ to be said, has been spoken. And it’s sooner than I expected, but neater in the end than I was hoping too. Of all the places this fic could end, this one seemed like a better option to me. 
> 
> So thank you. Thank you. _Thank you_.
> 
> I’m so glad I wrote this story. And I’m so glad all of you read it. Thank you so much for that gracious audience. Words can’t do it justice, and I can’t thank you enough.
> 
> For my part, I wish every one of you joy, and peace, and fulfillment in your life. Your voices have been so precious to me, and I love you so much. Please enjoy your lives, as I leave you to enjoy mine. 
> 
> I love you guys.


End file.
